


Through Death, Love & Survival

by CaseNumber825



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Period-Typical Homophobia, depictions of ptsd, somewhat slow burn baberoe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseNumber825/pseuds/CaseNumber825
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow the story of Eugene Roe and Edward 'Babe' Heffron as they find love in the bleakest of times and survive the toughest of battles, only to find that the hardest part is coming home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction (Babe's Promise)

**Author's Note:**

> I am making no profit from this and absolutely no disrespect is intended towards to real-life veterans or their families.  
> This is based purely off the portrayals by the actors of this magnificent mini-series.

Private Edward J. _Babe_ Heffron considered himself to be a fairly observant man. In all of his 22 years on God’s Great Earth, he reckoned he had gained quite the knack for reading people. For example, despite Bill Guarnere’s insistence, he could tell that Bastogne was getting to Buck Compton. Oh sure, the man was as sharp in battle as he’d always been, but it was during the silent, still moments that Babe could see the cracks forming under the surface. Whether their lieutenant would break under the pressure, Babe wasn’t certain, but if it did happen he wouldn’t be surprised.

Of course, Babe Heffron _thought_ he could read people quite well, until he made his first attempt to read Easy’s combat medic, Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe. Admittedly he hadn’t taken much notice of the quiet, unassuming Louisianan before Bastogne. Sure, he knew the man was brilliant in his role as medic. Everyone knew he was a brilliant medic. There had even been rumours within the company that the Doc came from a family of Cajun faith healers, though Babe wasn’t certain how anybody would know that. The man kept to himself most of the time, so Babe couldn’t really be blamed for not taking much notice. Even Spina, Easy’s other medic and the only person that Babe had witnessed Roe talking to about something that wasn’t the mental or physical health of the men, didn’t seem to be particularly close to him.

To someone like Babe it was undeniably frustrating. He could only imagine what loneliness could do to someone in the circumstances that Easy currently found themselves in, and yet, he couldn’t quite tell what the near constant isolation was doing to Roe. He knew if it were him, he’d be losing it after the first day, but he and Roe clearly weren’t anything alike.

However, he would catch Roe absentmindedly staring out into the white forest more often now. Small frown nearly permanently etched on his face, yet his eyes were almost glazed over. If Babe didn’t know any better, he would say that Bastogne was getting to Roe like it was getting to Buck. But, no sooner had the thought planted itself in his mind, shells would start exploding and artillery fire would rain upon them, someone would yell for a medic and Babe would just about catch Roe leap up and run towards the cry for help, all previous signs of exhaustion forgotten as he worked to save the men or declare that they would need to be sent up to the aid station in Bastogne.

After Julian died and Babe was violently reminded of the reality he was in, where it didn’t matter how young or innocent you were, you could still find yourself shot through the throat, bleeding out in front of enemy lines with no one able to help you.

That night, Babe subconsciously found himself seeking comfort in the medic’s foxhole and was surprised to discover he was somewhat disappointed that it was only Spina huddled under the blanket, though logically he knew that Roe was out in the forest checking on the state of the rest of the men as he did every night.

Even so, when the blanket was lifted and a space was made beside Spina, he all but collapsed into the hole. Exhaustion, grief and anger had taken their toll and he was glad when Spina made no attempts to talk to him, just rested a reassuring arm around his shoulders and quietly allowed him to work through his emotions in his head.

******************************

At some point, long after the night sky had fallen and no sounds could be heard from the rest of the company, Babe began to run through every possible thing that could have been handled differently. _‘I should’ve gone back for him. I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve been braver. I should’ve…’_

“Gotcha”

The soft Louisiana accent filtered through into his internal litany of self-deprecation, though he had neither the strength nor the inclination to offer any recognition of the fact that the Doc had been looking for him. He was dimly aware of the sound of his own name “Heffron? Edward?” _‘Christ Gene haven’t we been over this already’_ and Spina’s head moving above him, likely as a way to silently explain Babe’s condition to the other medic, though Babe couldn’t be certain and didn’t particularly care because the next thing he knew he had a piece of decidedly-not-k-ration chocolate under his nose and the sounds of that smooth accent in his ears.

“Eat it.” So he did, because weren’t you supposed to do what the medics told you do. Whether that extended to eating offered chocolate as you grieved for the life of a young soldier, he wasn’t sure but it seemed to please Roe “Good. All right…”

“I promised him if he got hit, I’d get his stuff and take it to his mom, you know?” He supposed he couldn’t have stayed quiet for much longer; his natural ability to anger quickly was bound to want to show up eventually as the words formed around half-chewed chocolate, “Now the fucking Krauts’ll strip him”

“Hey, no, s’okay…”

“No it’s not!” Frustration won out against his exhaustion, and he couldn’t say for certain whether or not it was just frustration at Julian’s death or frustration at the war in general “It’s not okay. I should’ve got to him”

And then it hit Babe like a tonne of bricks. Was this how Gene felt every time he lost a man? Could that have been why he so often saw Gene staring blankly into the distance, like Babe had been just moments before, wondering just how many men he could’ve saved had he done something different. He chanced a quick look over at the other man but his gaze was already located elsewhere. Whatever comforting or consoling words had been on the tip of Roe’s tongue had been wiped clear by Babe’s mini outburst.

Babe sighed, breath escaping in a rush of white cloud. He’d had all of two spoken interactions with Gene and both times he’d managed to snap at the Cajun medic who never really deserved it _‘Gene, what is it with the Heffron bullshit, huh?_ ’. Babe buried himself deeper into the blanket, an awkward sort of silence having fallen over the three men, as he promised himself he’d keep an eye on the other man. Whenever he might see that same blank look settling over his features, Babe would attempt to provide some small morsel of comfort in the hope that it might make the tiniest of differences.

And if he happened to allow a small smile grace his lips when he felt the blanket lift and Gene’s warm weight press against his side, head resting lightly against his arm, well he guessed he’d look more closely into that some other time.


	2. Bastogne

So apparently Babe wasn’t quite as adept at the whole ‘providing comfort’ thing as he thought he could be. So far all he’d managed to do was take at least one container of whatever it was they were now calling a meal to an increasingly lost-looking Roe. Ignoring the bemused look that had been thrown his way as he’d held the second container out for an extra portion,

“For Doc” He’d offered by way of an explanation, receiving a shrug and a half-hearted nod that he decided had meant agreement, approval or both.

“I mean,” Babe had said to Roe, uncertain as to why he felt he needed to give a reason, “you know more than any of us how important it is to keep your strength up, right Doc?” He wasn’t lying anyway, he didn’t know how Easy would cope if Roe started to slip.

Those dark blue eyes had turned to focus on the South Philly native, his gaze almost contemplative as though he’d only just realised Babe was standing in front of him, “Right, Heffron” He paused, eyes flickering downward to look at the container briefly and meeting the other man’s, “Thanks” and with that his attention was once again firmly focussed seemingly nowhere as the medic retreating back into himself.

Babe sighed, chose not to remind the man of his nickname and, having no reason to stick around, turned on his heel and went to find Guarnere and the others. Not that he had particularly far to travel. Luckily for Babe, though Gene kept himself away from the loud conversation and raucous laughter - most of which came from Muck and Luz - he still stayed nearby. Presumably that was because, in these bleak circumstances, a man was just as likely to be wounded while he was eating as he would be in combat and Roe needed to be able to get to the men quickly.

“Hey, Babe, what’s got you looking so glum?” Muck asked suddenly, once the laughter from Luz’s latest Lt. Dike impersonation had died down.

It was only then he realised he’d been quiet throughout Luz’s act. He felt somewhat defensive at the fact that Muck had felt the need to point it out though and he couldn’t help his reply,

“What? You mean apart from freezing my ass off in this frozen fucking hell hole, while hundreds of Krauts keep trying to put a bullet through me” He did sometimes wish he’d developed a better brain-to-mouth filter, but annoyingly his naturally sarcastic attitude always had to shine through. His mother had always told him his mouth got him into more trouble than his fists ever could.

Muck fixed him with a pointed look “You know, I think those Krauts are trying to put bullets through each and every one of us.”

“Yeah, so don’t go thinking you’re so special.” Malarkey quipped through a mouthful of beans, to which Babe smirked and rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his own beans and waiting for the conversation to continue as normal.

Unfortunately for Babe, the rest of the boys weren’t content to let it rest and the next thing he knew Guarnere was nudging him in the side, “You still grieving over that kid Julian?”

“Nah, well yeah I guess, but” He sighed, of course he was still upset about Julian, Babe still couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for leaving him there, “It’s just Doc”

And apparently everyone in this damn company had lost all of their tact somewhere between Normandy and Eindhoven, because they all decided to look over at the same time “Jesus Christ guys, you want him to think we’re talking about him?”

“Well technically, we _are_ talking about him” Ah yes, Penkala, forever the voice of reason, “Besides, doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with him”

“I ain’t talking about there being anything physically wrong with him…”

“Oh, Christ, not this again Babe” Guarnere interrupted, “First Buck and now the Doc” He’d almost forgotten Bill’s reaction to his concerns regarding their lieutenant.

“You wanna be careful there Babe” Muck said carefully, “you keep thinking men are losing it, someone’s gonna start thinking the same about you”

Babe shrugged “I didn’t say he was losing it,” He mumbled, “I just -” finding the right way to describe his worries for Roe was proving a little more tricky than he’d first anticipated, “Oh jeez, I don’t know, I just don’t think a man should be on his own under these conditions”

“That’s just the way the Doc is, Babe” Luz piped in, having been silent throughout most of the conversation “He’s always kept to himself”

“I know…”

“But,” The other man continued “If it makes you feel better, we’ll try an’ keep an eye on him for ya”

Babe gave the man a short nod of appreciation before turning his attention back on the beans. After a few moments the conversation returned to the usual; namely the incompetence of Lt. Dike and reminiscing of their lives before the war and Babe figured he could chance a glance towards Gene. The medic’s attention seemed to be firmly riveted on the container Babe had given him, but as he watched the man take small portions of it into his mouth, well Babe could safely say he felt he’d achieved a small victory.

****************************

Oblivious to the concerns that were being raised in regards to his own wellbeing, Eugene Roe couldn’t stop thinking about what Renée had said back at the aid station. _‘I never want to treat another wounded man again’_. He couldn’t comprehend just how someone with her gift could want to stop using it. In so many ways, she reminded him of his grandmother. He remembered back to when he would watch her work as a young boy, how easily she could calm and comfort the sick and the dying. Even if she couldn’t save them, she would make sure they met God at peace with themselves and the world they were leaving.

Not for the first time he found himself envying that gift. He longed for the ability to make the soldiers last moments of life peaceful. It was far too often that the men under Eugene’s care died screaming and begging for the pain to stop, for some miracle to save them so they could see their loved ones, as they bled out in the dirt or the snow, amidst enemy fire in a foreign country. Far too often, Eugene saw their eyes glaze over, felt the fight leave and he knew that yet another letter filled with pointless condolences would be sent back to America, to a family whose lives would be changed forever. And Eugene couldn’t help but feel responsible for each and every life that slipped through his fingers.

“Hey, Eugene” He gave a slight start at the voice that had broken his train of thought,

“Spina” He acknowledged, nodding in the other man’s direction,

“We get everything we need from the Bastogne drop?” Spina crouched down to Eugene’s level, watching as the other medic absentmindedly stirred the beans that Heffron had given him.

He shrugged loosely, “For now, perhaps” He took another small mouthful, “But considering we got no idea how long we’re gonna be in this shit, God knows how long the supplies’ll last”

Spina nodded in agreement, hands clasped tightly around his own container of beans, fingers shaking almost imperceptibly. If they’d been anywhere but Bastogne he might have commented on it, enquired about the man’s wellbeing, but here it was a pointless question. No man could control their shaking fingers here, it didn’t matter how much they wrapped up, “I’m so fucking sick of this shit, you know?” he said, not for the first time,

“You know, they ain’t evacuating the aid station?” Eugene replied, ever since he’d first gone to scrounge supplies from Renée it’d been on his mind,

“No shit?”

Eugene shook his head, “Bastogne’s as far as they go”

“Might as well leave ‘em out here” the other medic remarked, a look of disbelief now firmly planted on his face, “I mean, what’s the point?”

Eugene sighed, “Least they got warm food and constant care” He pointed out, “Neither o’ us can give ‘em that”

Spina frowned and shrugged “S’pose” and then there wasn’t much more either man could say as they fell into a companionable silence. Eugene recalled watching as they’d taken over Sisk’s care, remembered how cramped the church was becoming and with no evacuation plans and more wounded men coming through the doors every day, it wouldn’t be long before they’d have to find somewhere else for the men to stay. Eugene prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

***********************

Richard Winters was not a stupid man. From the very start of Easy Company’s campaign across Europe, he’d made it his job to make sure the men were both mentally and physically well. And because Richard Winters was not a stupid man, he knew before the rumours had even started that Eugene Roe was getting quieter and isolating himself even more than usual. He also knew that there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. The medic was still as dedicated to his tasks and as quick to respond to cries for help as he’d always been, and he’d managed to keep the wounded men comfortable even with his limited supplies. The fact that he was quiet and distant just wasn’t a good enough reason for concern.

He heard footsteps behind him and looked for the source, every sense on high alert as his adrenaline surged into life once more. He assumed he must have visibly relaxed after seeing that the source of the noise was none other than his best friend.

“So, Dick, you always this jumpy?” Lewis Nixon quipped, tone teasing and light. Winters smiled lightly, glad for the distraction that the other man offered,

“I’m sure you would be too if you’d had a German soldier take a shit behind you while you shaved”

Nixon laughed under his breath, “Perhaps, but then I wouldn’t be trying to shave in this shit”

“I can see that,” Winters replied, fixing the other man with a very pointed look “However, some of us in this battalion like to keep up our appearances” He made a point of glancing down at Nixon’s ever-darkening stubble,

“Or you’re just extremely pedantic” he retorted, “Besides, I quite like it” He ran a hand over his lower face, “Anything for a bit of extra warmth”

Winters smirked and nodded, a low hum of amusement sounded deep in his throat as Nixon leant back to look out into Bois Jacques.

“So what had you so deep in thought anyway?” Nixon continued, turning his gaze back on to Winters, as though suddenly remembering what he’d wandered over to the other man’s foxhole for in the first place, “Still struggling with The Dike Problem”

Winters had almost forgotten about The Dike Problem, as Nixon had christened it a while ago. Not that it was an easy problem to forget about. As a commanding officer, Lieutenant Dike was as incompetent as they came, just another rich ranks-climber looking for the glory but not wanting to join the fight. And again, Winters couldn’t do a thing about it. The higher-ups had put the man in charge of Easy Company, so that’s where he’d have to stay.

“Always, Nix” He replied with a sigh, “But not specifically this time”

Nixon rolled his eyes, “Oh good, more shit to worry about then” He leant forward again, elbows resting lightly on his knees, “Well go on, what’s wrong this time?”

So much for the hope of a distraction then, “There’s just been talk within the company about the condition of some of the men”

“Really? Which men?”

“Currently?” Winters sighed again, “Eugene Roe”

Nixon raised both eyebrows in surprise, “The Doc?” the other man nodded “Well, shit” and Winters inclined his head in agreement. Nixon gave a low whistle and shook his head, “Now that is not a man that Easy wants to lose right now, guy’s the best damn medic in the battalion.”

“I know that, Nix” Winters replied, his frustration at the situation evident in his voice, “The man’s still doing his job as well as he ever has. I mean, I don’t even know if there _is_ any cause for concern”

Nixon laid his hand on Winters shoulder, “Maybe just keep an eye out for now” He said. Winters shrugged lips quirking with the movement as they fell into a comfortable silence.

*************************

It didn’t take long for Babe to feel validated in his concern over Roe.

It had happened so quickly, half the men had been falling asleep, or were at least drifting there, strangely lulled by the sounds of German soldiers singing ‘Silent Night’ in their own language. It was almost pleasant as Babe silently crept through the forest, _‘I just need to make sure the man’s alright’_ he’d reasoned with himself. Ever since he’d returned from taking Smokey to the aid station, Roe’d been, if possible, even more withdrawn. Babe had even witnessed Spina try to make an attempt at conversation with him, to no avail.

He was busy in his own head, trying to work out how to go about making sure that Roe was okay, without making it obvious that he was concerned about the medic’s mental state, when suddenly the sound of German singing was replaced by German gunfire and the next thing he knew Captain Winters was yelling ‘ _Medic!’_. He sprang into action as he ran for Roe’s foxhole, not even questioning his own motives as he dodged the trees, moving as fast as he could through the thick snow.

Winters was still yelling for a medic by the time he’d found Roe. Spina was there as well, with his hand held in front of the other man as he called for him to get up. Babe joined him at one side of Roe’s foxhole, copying Spina’s actions and becoming increasingly concerned ,

“Gene!” Babe barely registered pushing Spina to one side as he jumped into Roe’s foxhole, everything else becoming just background noise as he tried to assess the situation in front of him, “Is he hurt?”

Spina shrugged as he watched from his new position outside the foxhole, “I don’t know” He replied, looking at the chaos that had replaced the peace from just moments before, “Look, we gotta go!”

“All right, go” Babe answered, vaguely registering that the other medic had indeed gone as he redoubled his efforts to get Roe up. He made a grab at his upper arm and Roe’s eyes opened, panicked but confused “C’mon Gene you gotta get up, Captain’s yelling for ya”

The medic blinked slowly, like he still wasn’t sure where he was or what he was supposed to be doing, “Okay…” but he started sinking back into the foxhole.

“Okay get up - not okay lie down!” _‘Please don’t do this now Gene, c’mon we need you’_ Babe threw one arm around the other man’s shoulders, the other hand finding Roe’s own as he attempted to use his own body strength to hoist the man up, “Okay get up, c’mon, move!”

Miraculously, whether through sheer force of will on Babe’s part or whether Roe had finally snapped to his senses, the medic used Babe’s help to clamber out of the foxhole and Babe was pleased for all of a millisecond, until he felt a sharp stabbing pain in the centre of his hand. He looked down at his upturned palm, blood already pooling in the centre and slowly trickling down to drip onto the snow below.

_‘How the fuck did that happen’_ “Goddammit!” He cursed, gripping his wrist tightly and clenching his fist to stem the flow of blood as he sucked air in through his teeth, before bracing himself to re-join the fight.

***********************

When the line was peaceful once more, and night sky slowly began to fade into daylight, Babe had just begun to vaguely relax in his foxhole. Staring out into Bois Jacques, watching and waiting for any sign of another attack as he tried his best to ignore the throbbing in his hand. He was trying desperately to not scratch the wound, knowing that Roe would reprimand him for it. His head began to throb in time with his hand as he thought about the Cajun medic. Just what was he trying to achieve in befriending the other man. Roe didn’t seem interested and as the night before had proven, the man was possibly even more exhausted, both mentally and physically, than he had been before Babe had started with his own special brand of comfort.

He tried to wriggle himself deeper into his own thick, itchy scarf just as his ears picked up the noise of footsteps in the snow behind him. A few seconds later he felt the presence of another body next to his own and turned his head to see that Roe had sunk into the space beside him.

“Everythin’ okay?” He heard the soft Louisianan accent disrupt the seemingly endless silence. Business as usual for Roe it would seem, but at least he sounded more like his usual self. “Babe?” Oh right, he was supposed to be answering a question,

“Yeah” He said simply, lifting his hand to rub at his nose. He’d just started to forget about the throbbing on his palm when he felt Roe reach over and grab his hand,

“Hey, how’d ya do that?” His fingers were soft and light against Babe’s hand as he leaned in closer to examine the wound.

Babe heard the words tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them, “You did that” and if ever there was a moment that Babe wished he could turn back time, it would be this moment, when Gene looked up from assessing his hand and he could see the look of shock and horror that crossed the other man’s face, eyes wide and brows slightly furrowed. Babe instantly never wanted to be the reason for that look again and he could feel the apology forming on his tongue-

“I’ll fix it up” Gene had already cut him off and turned away to rummage in his pockets. Babe’s shoulders deflated as the planned apology died in his mouth and he turned to watch the line once more, waiting patiently for Gene to start ‘fixing him up’.

Of course, because he was Babe, he could only stay patiently silent for a couple of seconds before another thought popped into his head,

“Hey Gene, you called me Babe” It hadn’t occurred to him while he was busy wallowing in his own self-pity, but the man who never called anybody by their nickname, had definitely called him by his nickname. He felt oddly proud of this fact.

“I did? When?” Babe felt his own eyebrows furrow at Gene’s response. Okay, so the medic was a bit distracted now, searching for supplies with which he could treat Babe’s hand. But it had only happened a minute ago, surely he wouldn’t have forgotten already.

“Just now” He said in reply, confusion laced his tone as he mentally willed Gene to remember. Gene looked at him closely, almost as if he was seeing the other man for the first time, his eyes searching Babe’s own, _“Babe…”_ The name sounded completely different with that soft, warm Louisianan tone coating it, making it sound more like a term of endearment than the nickname he’d had his whole life. He shivered lightly and was uncertain as to whether he could still blame it on the cold.

Babe nodded, mostly as a way to distract himself from delving too deep into his own thoughts. Gene looked down as Babe saw the corners of his lips quirk up.

“I guess I did.” The medic continued, as the quirk turned into a full smile and Babe quickly decided that that was a look he needed to see on Gene’s face more often.

Babe felt himself smile and let out a breathy chuckle in response, _“Baaaabe”_ He replied, poorly imitating the other man’s accent.

Gene fixed Babe with a look of light-hearted exasperation, “Heffron, watch goddamn line”

Okay, maybe he deserved that one, but he was still trying to distract himself from the _‘Babe’_ line from before and the smile that followed it. He ‘ _hmm_ ’ed happily as he settled back to watch the line and let Gene do his work. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments on the line, the snow still falling lightly from the sky above. If not for the bloodied snow in front of the foxhole and the knowledge that hundreds, maybe even thousands, of Kraut soldiers were just waiting for the opportunity to launch an attack, Babe might have even described the scene as pretty.

All of a sudden, another thought occurred to Babe, “Gene?”

“Hmm?” The other man replied, still pre-occupied with bandaging up Babe’s hand,

“Where’d ya go during the attack?” He asked, “Just, I don’t recall seeing ya around like I usually do”

Gene looked back up at Babe, that sad little frown back on his face as he wet his lips with his tongue. Babe almost wished he hadn’t said anything at all; that they could go back to the comfortable silence that had been so pleasant just a moment ago.

Finally Gene sighed, “Captain ordered me up to the aid station in Bastogne” he began, gaze firmly planted on the ground, “Though’ it might’ve done me good to have a hot meal” he scoffed and shook his head, “We got there an’ the whole place was bein’ attacked. The fucking Krauts they-” the words hitched slightly in his throat as he remembered the sight that had greeted him in Bastogne “- they blew it up.” He let go of Babe’s hand, letting his own hands fall in a heap in his lap.

“Blew what up?”

“The aid station” Gene replied, so quietly that Babe had to strain to hear, “They’d tried to evacuate as many of the wounded as they could when the attack started” He sighed, half-heartedly shrugging a shoulder, “It was too quick though. Kraut shells were landin’ right on top o’ them. So many people were still inside when it collapsed,” he let out a ragged breath, “There were wounded men in there, doctors, nurses -” he paused for a moment, “-Renée” his voice chocked again and Babe didn’t need to ask who Renée had been to know she’d been important to Gene.

Babe placed an arm around the other man’s shoulder and felt him tense at the contact, “Hey, c’mere” he shushed as he pulled Gene closer in to his side, wanting to give the man whatever comfort he so clearly needed.

He felt Gene relax slowly, shoulders dropping with a shaky breath as he not only accepted the contact, but actually proceeded to bury himself closer to Babe’s warmth, head now resting lightly on the other man’s shoulder,

“They were s’posed to be safe there” He whispered into Babe’s arm.

Babe nodded, “I know, Gene, I know” He sighed and tightened his hold around the man, “I think now though, you need rest,” almost instantly he felt the medic start to protest and lift himself out of Babe’s grip, “No, don’t worry, I’m watching the line anyway, Spina’s been checking in on everybody and if anyone shouts for a medic, I’ll wake you up”

Gene met Babe’s eyes as looked up, brows furrowed together once more, “But -”

“Please Gene” Babe interrupt, holding Gene’s determined look with his own, “After all, we need you at your best” _‘I need you at your best’_ He thought, and where that had come from he wasn’t quite sure. Gene’s steely determine held steady for a couple more heartbeats before he sighed and all but crumpled back into Babe’s side. If Babe had thought Gene had been exhausted the previous night while he heaved the other man out of his foxhole, it was nothing compared to now.

It wasn’t long before Gene’s breathing evened out, chest rising and falling slowly as his body relaxed completely and Babe could only pray that this peace would remain for long enough to allow the medic a good few hours of rest.


	3. Bois Jacques to Haguenau (Eugene's Worries)

Ever since that morning in the foxhole, wherein Babe had allowed Gene to grieve at least a little for the lives that had been lost at Bastogne, he could feel that the dynamics of their relationship had shifted. How exactly it had changed, Babe wasn’t yet certain. Had they become friends? Gene called him ‘Edward’ now, rather than ‘Heffron’, and despite his protests when the medic had first used his given name, Babe found himself appreciating it now.  

He hadn’t called him ‘Babe’ since he’d patched up his hand. That had been a good two weeks ago and the wound was now just an itchy scab atop nearly healed skin. Secretly Babe was almost pleased. His reaction to the way Gene had said his nickname had unsettled him and he wasn’t quite ready to explore the reason behind that yet. He had enough to concern himself with without adding more to the pile.

The 101st had been in Bois Jacques for three weeks now and were currently holding the line just outside the village of Foy. It was an achievement in the greater scheme of things but they had lost many great men getting to that point. Joe Toye and Bill Guarnere had both been wounded during two consecutive barrages that had also resulted in the loss of Skip Muck and Alex Penkala after a German shell had hit their foxhole. The attack and the sight of Toye and Guarnere wounded like that had proved to be the breaking point for Buck Compton, who’d been taken off the line after the attack. The higher-ups had cited a bad case of trench foot, but Babe knew better.

It was quieter now; the mood more sombre than Babe had ever known it. He didn’t know how much more the men could take, how much more he could take of it. Easy were due to spearhead an assault on Foy the next day and nerves were running high throughout the company. Perhaps if they were being led by a commander with more sense, the men might have been more confident in their chances. As it was, with Dike in charge, Babe didn’t even know if they had a plan of attack.

It was these thoughts that were running through his mind when he heard the crack of a twig behind him and he instantly aimed his gun towards the source of the noise,

“It’s just me, Edward”

Babe let his shoulders relax and his eyes close briefly when he heard the smooth lilt of the Cajun accent that he’d come to know so well,

“Gene” the name came out in a rush of air as he exhaled the breath he’d held in when he’d heard the initial noise. He shifted to the side to let the other man slide into his foxhole. It was a common occurrence now. Gene would finish his nightly rounds of checking on the men and then settle into Babe’s foxhole until he was next needed,

“How’re ya feeling?” Gene asked the same question every night, as was part of his routine. Babe would normally answer with something like _‘As good as can be, Gene’_ , but tonight, when he looked at Gene, his mouth half-opened with his usual reply, he noticed something in the medic’s expression. Something that seemed to be almost pleading with him, begging him to not give Gene the same old answer. He closed his mouth again and pressed his lips together as he held Gene’s gaze for a second longer.

Then he sighed, “Honestly Gene?” He looked back out of the foxhole “I’m fucking scared as hell.” His shoulders sagged once more as his thoughts returned to what awaited the company the next day, “I mean, who knows what the fuck the Krauts are gonna throw at us. We don’t even know how many of the bastards we’re facing tomorrow! We got a commanding officer who don’t know what the fuck he’s doing - can he even fire a gun? Who the fuck knows. I ain’t ever seen him do it -” Babe realised his voice was getting steadily higher-pitched the more his rant continued and sighed heavily again, letting out a noise of frustration as he did so, “I’m sorry, Gene”

And then Gene smiled, just slightly, just enough to let Babe see the corners of his mouth quirk up as the rest of his features softened, “S’alright Edward,” his voice had taken on that soothing, soft  tone he used for badly wounded soldiers, the ones he thought might not make it, “’Sides, it’s good to be scared. Means you got some common sense in that head o’ yours.” He fixed Babe with a look, amusement dancing in those dark blue eyes, to which Babe replied with a roll of the eyes and a light laugh. The mood was considerably lighter than it had been just a moment before, until Gene’s smile faded and his eyes returned to his own constantly fidgeting hands.

Babe had noticed it before on Gene, the way his fingers would constantly move around together, and how his nails would scratch at his own skin. Sometimes Babe had seen him with a piece of thick string, wrapping it round and round his fingers while he muttered words to himself. Babe assumed it was simply a comfort thing, a way for the medic to keep himself sane during these quieter moments.

Babe watched Gene for a few seconds more before turning to face ahead once again. They sat quietly together until the silence was disrupted by Gene’s voice, “You know, it’s the ones that are too cocky that get ‘emselves killed” He said quietly. He was picking at the skin next to his fingernails still, almost as though he’d forgotten Babe was even there, “The ones that charge in as though nothing could hurt ‘em. Don’t get me wrong, you can be confident. Confidence could save your life. Confident but humble.”

The medic sighed heavily, lips slightly pursed and eyes closed in frustration as he let his head fall against the mud wall of the foxhole. Babe allowed himself a good look at the other man, taking in the way his dark eyelashes contrasted almost prettily with the, currently very pale, skin of his cheeks. All of sudden, Babe was struck by the very-nearly-overwhelming desire to run the back of his finger across that cheek, to feel if the skin there was as soft to the touch as it appeared to be. He’d started subconsciously lifting his hand to perform the action when Gene’s eyes opened again and Babe instead rubbed the lifted hand across his own face, _‘where had that come from, what were you thinking of Heffron’,_

“Babe” Gene’s voice was quieter now, the sound more vulnerable than Babe thought he’d ever heard from the medic and the use of his nickname startled him as it broke through the litany of his self-reprimanding thoughts,

“Yeah, Gene?” He answered, curiously. It might have been Babe’s imagination, but he could have sworn he’d seen Gene shift a little closer as he looked directly into Babe’s eyes; eyebrows furrowed just slightly,

“Don’t get cocky tomorrow, please” His eyes locked with Babes, the corners of his mouth once again pulled down into a small frown,

“Hey, Gene, come on. When have you ever known me to get cocky?” The mood was now too serious; air thick with something Babe couldn’t put a name to, so he tried lightening the atmosphere as best he could.

Unfortunately for Babe, Gene didn’t follow suit as his eyes took on that same pleading look he’d had just moments before, “Please Babe, just promise me”

Babe searched Gene’s face for a couple of second, not knowing what he was looking for exactly but it gave him the opportunity to see just how gravely serious Gene was. He let his face soften, “Sure, Gene, I promise.” He wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was promising, but it seemed to placate the medic, “But you gotta promise me something too.” _It was only fair, after all._

“What’s that?”

Babe gave Gene a small smile, still looked directly into Gene’s eyes, “You gotta promise me that if I get wounded, you’re gonna be the one to fix me up”

The medic’s mouth opened in what Babe assumed was going to be a protest. He wasn’t stupid, he knew if he got hit and another medic was closer, that Gene wasn’t going to be the one fixing him up. It just made him feel better saying it, having heard the Cajun medic give those reassurances to other men in the company.

Gene must have thought better of protesting, because he closed his mouth again, the corners lifting as he smiled at the other man, “Don’t worry Babe, I’ll be there”

Babe’s smiled widened and he ducked his head away as they fell into a comfortable silence and tried not to think about what the next day was going to bring.

***********************

The attack to re-gain control of Foy had proved successful, but also brutal. Gene knew it was par for the course, but many men had lost their lives because of Lieutenant Dike’s incompetence; incompetence that had the man almost completely shut down on the battlefield, hiding behind a stack of hay bales, under heavy German fire, while he ordered his men to go on what were essentially suicide runs. Those were men whose lives might have been spared had Ron Speirs been ordered to relieve Dike of his command earlier.

These thoughts were running through Gene’s head as he leant against the doorframe of the church that the company had taken up residence in. Most of the men were sat in the pews, lost in their own thoughts, blank expressions of half the faces Gene could see in the dim light. As he scanned the pews he caught sight of Babe. The man looked exhausted, brows furrowed tightly on his face and lips turned downwards. Gene had been seeing that expression on the younger man’s face all too often now and he’d decided it wasn’t a look that suited the once lively features.

The medic took a deep breath and began his routine of checking on the men. It didn’t take as long as it used to. Not only had Easy’s numbers been depleted, but the men just weren’t interested in discussing their own problems when half of their buddies were now lying dead in the snow outside. Gene could understand it, but he still needed to do something. Every time he let his thoughts wander they seemed to make their way to that Philadelphian paratrooper that had wormed his way under Gene’s skin. He’d done so well, up to this point, to not let anyone get close to him, to not let himself get too attached to anyone. He didn’t know how he’d be able to handle it if the next call for ‘Medic’ came because Babe had been wounded, if Gene couldn’t save him when that time came. He didn’t know what it would do to him or how he’d be able to react.

He’d just finished checking on Luz and was making his way to the other set of pews when he heard Winters approach him from behind,

“Roe”

“Captain” Gene nodded, too tired to salute as he knew he should. He figured that Winters wouldn’t mind under these circumstances.

The man in question nodded back and motioned for Gene to follow him to the back of the church, away from the rest of the men, “How’re the men?” He asked quietly, once he felt confident they were more or less out of earshot,

“To be frank, sir” Gene started, “They’re exhausted, and frustrated” He licked his lips and swallowed thickly, “Apart from that though, there ain’t nothin’ physically wrong with ‘em” He sighed as he thought about his next words, “I think they’re angry that it took the deaths of so many men for Lieutenant Dike to be relieved” He finished, awaiting Winter’s reaction.

The captain simply nodded again, his expression sombre, mouth pulled down into a frown, “I understand Eugene” He cleared his throat, “Have they made any comments about their new commanding officer?”

“Lieutenant Speirs?” Gene clarified, to which Winters nodded once more, “From what I’ve heard, the men respect him.”

“What about you?”

Gene thought about his answer for a moment. What did he think of Easy’s new commanding officer? He’d heard the rumours that had been circulating among the men since they’d first jumped into Normandy, but apart from that he didn’t know much about the other man. Nevertheless, his actions in Foy had impressed Gene,

“I believe he’ll prove a good leader for Easy. I’m just glad we have someone we can trust again” Gene could feel his eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment, the weeks that the company had just spent in Bois Jacques were now catching up on him.

Winters turned concerned eyes on him, “And how are you doing, Eugene?” His voice was soft as he searched the medic’s face,

“I’m gettin’ there, sir” He replied with a sigh.

Winters kept his eyes trained on the medic for a moment, then smiled tightly and gave a short nod, indicated that the other man could go about his business. He watched him for a second as he went back to the pews to check in on the rest of the men before turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. He could help but worry about the men of Easy; they’d been under his care for a long time, so he still felt as though he had a particular duty of care towards them.

***********************

None of the men seemed quite sure how to act when they arrived in Haguenau. They had warm food, places to shower and beds to sleeps in and yet the atmosphere within the company was filled with tension. The wounds from Bastogne and Foy were fresh and deep, and even here men were being blown up or shot at in the street. Everyone was uneasy and prone to snapping at each other when given even most minor of reasons.

Babe was one of the men to have been apparently been selected to go on some sort of suicide patrol later that night, with the aim of capturing some ‘talkative’ German prisoners. In other words, they needed capturing alive, instead of being shot where they stood like Babe would have preferred. To say Babe was fucked off would have been a serious understatement, but what frustrated him more than anything was that the higher-ups had chosen Malarkey to join the patrol as well.

The man was more distant than Babe had ever known him to be, having lost all of his closest friends at nearly the same time. Losing Julian had been tough enough on Babe, he had struggled through the feelings of hopelessness that had overcome him, the constant _ifs, whens_ and _buts_ that had plagued his thoughts in the aftermath. He shuddered to think how the other man must be feeling, to lose the men who had been there with him from Toccoa. To send him on this patrol in the state he was currently in, the injustice of it made Babe want to scream.

“Babe!” So lost he was in his own thoughts as he made his way slowly to the showers, he hadn’t noticed Gene’s footsteps joining his own. He wasn’t going to admit to anybody, though, that Gene calling his name made him startle violently, and then blush like a fucking schoolgirl, _‘What the fuck is the matter with you, it’s just Gene-’_ “Hey, Babe, you feelin’ okay?”

“Huh?” Babe was aware that Gene was probably about two seconds away from calling a jeep to him to the aid station before his head finally pieced together what the other man had asked him, “Oh, yeah, I’m alright Gene” If he sounded distracted, he could hardly be blamed. He was still trying to work out at what point Gene had decided to use Babe's nickname and what that meant to their budding sort-of-friendship. He watched Gene frown, then nod slowly and, really, the last thing Babe needed right now was for the medic to think he was losing it, so, so convince Gene he wasn’t as frazzled as he seemed, he tried his well-used tactic of attempting to lighten the mood, “You know Gene, you are allowed to talk me without asking about my health”

“I heard they were sending you on the patrol tonight” Babe wasn’t sure if that statement was in reply to his last comment, or if Gene was just choosing to ignore it. He decided he didn’t especially care; talking with Gene, regardless of what his purpose for the conversation was, might well be the highlight of his day, so he was going to get the most out of it that he could,

“You heard right” Babe replied, tone resigned and weary, having already accepted his potential fate. There was a silence from Gene that dragged on for long enough that Babe felt the need to look over at the other man. He saw Gene worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, a thoughtful frown present on his face. Babe stopped them both walking forwards, placing a hand on Gene’s upper arm to halt the medic, “Gene?” He asked lightly.

Gene released his bottom lip, mouth twitching as he thought about what to say. Babe watched his face for a couple of second, eyes inexplicably drawn to that, now much redder, lip. Then Gene suddenly replied, “You’ll make it back though”

Babe furrowed his eyebrows in slightly confusion, eyes flicking back up to Gene’s own, “Well, I dunno Gene, I’ll give it my best shot”

“You have to make it back though Babe” Gene insisted.

Babe frowned as he tried to make sense of Gene. He wasn’t usually like this when the men were being sent on patrol. Granted he was usually trying to find a way of joining them so he could give more immediate medical attention should anyone need it. But this was new territory, and Babe wasn’t sure what to make of it,

“Is something wrong Gene?”

Gene took a deep breath in, and then slowly exhaled as his features lost that insistence that had been there just moments before, “No, Babe,” he began. He averted his eyes from Babe’s face, sighing in the process and restarted their walk towards the showers, “I just can’t lose you as well”

The words had been quiet, so quiet that Babe had had to strain his ears to hear them properly. He watched Gene walk purposefully towards the showering area, away from where Babe currently found himself frozen to the spot and he wondered whether he’d actually heard the man correctly. It was the second time now that the medic had told him, essentially, to not get killed. Babe knew that Gene didn’t want any of the men killed, but the quiet desperation that he’d heard in the other man’s voice was something that Babe wasn’t sure he’d ever heard from him.

Well, he supposed it was just one more reason to not get killed on patrol tonight. Babe shook his head and continued on his way to the showers as the grim voice in his head reminded him _‘As if you needed another reason’_    


	4. Something Unexpected

**_“We need a fucking medic here!”_ **

Eugene Roe didn’t exactly care who was yelling. He also didn’t care that he barely know which direction to run for when the call come. It didn’t truly matter, he was so used to hearing a call and running for it that his ears had become finely tuned to where noise was coming from.

He’d been waiting for it ever since the men had left. Tensing at every noise, medical bag already slung around his shoulder and clutched tightly in his hands. The weight and feel of it a welcome presence. Gene might even have gone so far as to call it a comfort, if anything could have brought him comfort during his wait. Spina had come by a couple of times to ask whether or not he’d heard anything, to which Gene had replied with a tightening of his lips and a quiet _‘not yet’._

When the call had come, along with a lot of panicked shouting and the ever familiar noise of gunfire, Gene could almost feel his heart leap into his throat. Everything else became background noise while he tried to focus on where the call had come from as he ran into the street. He vaguely processed Spina running up behind him before they almost crashed into Johnny Martin,

“Oh thank god it’s you two” Martin said, the relief evident in his voice, “Jackson’s been hit. Grenade. No morphine.”

Gene paused for just a second, “Jackson?” 

His previously frantic steps had slowed noticeably and Martin frowned, “Yeah, Jackson. Now come on!” He grabbed at the sleeve of Gene’s jacket sleeve, dragging him back into action.

He led them down into a dank basement where Gene briefly took in the chaos that lay before them- angry, panicked soldiers surrounding a badly wounded Eugene Jackson, who was thrashing about and screaming in pain. Gene needed the men to calm down, he needed Jackson to calm down and then he needed to get the young man to an aid station as quickly as possible.

But he wasn’t quick enough, _'or you're just not good enough at your job'_ his mind bitterly supplied. Eugene Jackson died on that board-turned-stretcher and nothing Gene had done or said had made any amount of difference. The young soldier – boy, really, because that’s what he was when all was said and done – had still died screaming for the pain to stop, for someone to save him.

Gene sat back on his legs from where he had knelt beside the now silent Private Jackson and ripped his helmet from his head, running his bloodied hand through his hair as guilt surged through him. As he looked up to take in the condition of the rest of the men, his eyes locked with Babes. He held the other man’s gaze for a few short moments, his eyes turned pleading, begging Babe for something. Gene didn’t even know what it was he wanted from the other man and he could see that Babe was slightly confused, brows furrowing as he frowned, staring at Gene for another beat before confirming to the rest of the patrol that Jackson was indeed dead.

Just another casualty in a war that had already claimed too many lives.

**********************

Gene had been right. Babe was confused by what he’d seen in the medic’s eyes. In fact, Babe had been somewhat confused by the behaviour of the other man since before the company had regained control of Foy. There were all of these half sentences and requests to stay safe, to stay alive. Eyes that seemed to stare right into Babe’s soul, asking him for things that never quite translated into words. Babe couldn’t stop thinking about what it meant and he was beginning to be concerned that the rest of the guys would notice how distracted he was becoming.

He lay in bed that night, having shrugged off his jacket and virtually fallen on top of the bunk in the rest of his uniform. Jackson’s screams and Gene’s eyes were plaguing his thoughts, making anything resembling rest more or less impossible. He closed his eyes and tried to think about home, about what it would be like to return to Philly after all this was over. What was life like back home now? He wondered if people were still going about their daily lives as normal. Were people still going to work every day and going to the bars on the weekends? Babe thought he might like to see if he could get his old job back, working the bar at Fitzwilliams. His thoughts turned to the girls back home, the ones he’d taken out the back door of Fitz’s when his shifts ended, remembered the sound of them laughing as they ran back to his place in the middle of the night and the feel of them pressed against him in his bed.

Then his thoughts shifted and all of a sudden the shoulder-length blonde hair he’d been fantasizing about turned shorter and blue-black, lean muscles replaced the voluminous curves and the laughter became deeper in pitch.

At that point, Babe’s eyes snapped open, “Goddamnit” He grumbled as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and wondering where the fuck that had just come from.

He saw David Webster look up blearily from the opposite bunk “Whatsamatter Babe?”

He groaned in reply, swung his legs over the side of the bunk and jumped down to the floor, landing with a dull thud.

Webster watched him curiously, “Where are you going?” He asked, when he noticed Babe had started making his way towards the door.

Babe looked back at him before leaving, “I just – uh…” _What is your actual plan here Babe_ “I just gotta go see Doc”

“Is something wrong?” _Christ, did this guy ever stop asking questions?_

Luckily Babe’s saviour came in the form of one Joseph Liebgott, “Fuck, Web, just let ‘im go already. I’m trying to get some fucking sleep before daylight”

Watching Webster glare at the other man, Babe decided that would be the perfect opportunity for a quick escape and he just hoped that Webster didn’t chose to sate his own curiosity by following him. He was stopped in his tracks by Liebgott again,

“Oh and Babe”

“Yeah Lieb?”

“If you find Doc, tell him I gotta serious pain in my ass”

Even in the dim light of the room, Babe could see the beginnings of a smirk forming on Liebgott’s face and he almost considered not humouring the other man, “Pain in your ass?” Well, Babe was the curious sort,

Liebgott’s smirk had now turned into a full-blown, shit-eating grin, “Yeah, I think it might be _Websteritis_. Quite serious and very contagious-”

“Oh fuck off Liebgott” Came Webster’s replied from bunk above. Babe could already sense the impending argument forming when Webster chucked the nearest object he could find, which was apparently his own helmet, down on to Liebgott, result in a serious of colourful expletives and interesting threats.

Babe made his quick escape without anybody noticing and just as he was walking out of earshot he heard McClung - **_“Would you two just shut. The fuck. Up!”_** \- loud and clearly. He smirked, shook his head and continued his way towards where he knew the medics were stationed. As he walked he couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck he was trying to accomplish by talking to this man that had not only overtaken his waking thoughts, but was invading his night-time fantasies as well.  ‘ _Perhaps’,_ Babe reasoned with himself, _‘the purpose of this trip should be to ask Doc if I’m losing it’_

Babe sighed, crossing his arms tightly around himself as he felt the bitter sting of February’s winter chill cut through his regulation shirt. The fabric felt painfully thin against the cold air and Babe could feel himself start to shiver. He briefly considered listening to his common sense and turning back, until he realised he was standing directly in front of the occupied house that contained the man he was looking for. Swallowing thickly, he pushed his common sense to one side and pushed the door open in order to make his way inside.

Of course, what he didn’t expect was the small step down on the other side of the door, and the next he knew he was lying face down on what was apparently a very cold, solid concrete floor. Gingerly he picked himself up to a kneeling position, touched the area on his forehead that had begun to throb and, subsequently, flinched when his fingers made contact,

“Aw Fuck!” He exclaimed, pulling his fingers away and noting that the tips of his fingers were stained with fresh blood, “Goddamnit!” He cursed and hauled himself to his feet, immediately backing up to lean against the closest wall when the room began to spin slightly. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, breathed deeply through his nose and willed the sudden nausea to pass,

“Babe?” And of course, Gene would have to come along right at this moment. Okay, so having a medic come along right after he’d whacked his head on concrete probably seemed like a stroke of luck to anyone else, but Babe was not anyone else and he was currently experiencing, on top of the nausea, an impending sense of utter humiliation at being caught sneaking in to find the very man that was currently giving him one of his all-too-familiar concerned looks.

Gene’s eyes flicked up to the tender spot on Babe’s forehead and the frown he’d already been wearing deepened considerably, “Shit, Babe, what happened?”

“Well – um – I sort of -” he gestured a little bit helplessly to the building’s entrance, then to the floor in roughly the area that he’d landed on, and then finally to himself and shrugged. It was fairly simple to figure out what had happened and Babe wasn’t about to further his embarrassment by trying to explain it to the medic.

Gene nodded slowly, “Alright, how are you feeling then?”

Again Babe shrugged, “I think I’m okay.” He attempted to push himself off the wall to stand firmly on his own two feet. He managed to steady himself for all of one heartbeat before swaying violently and almost landing on his face once more. He felt a very irrational sense of anger at that concrete floor.

It was lucky for Babe that Gene had some of the quickest reflexes in the company and he felt hands on both of his shoulders, keeping him steady and upright,

“Feeling fine, are ya?” Gene questioned once Babe was stable, “Come on”

“ _’Come on’_?”

“Well, I gotta examine ya” the medic explained, “You’re bleeding from the head and you can’t stand up straight. You might be looking at a trip to the aid station”

Gene kept a hand on Babe’s bicep as he led him down to the basement. Babe tried not to think too hard about the warmth of that hand on his own cold skin and instead concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other without either falling over or throwing up. Both of which he was relatively sure would earn him that trip to the aid station.

Once they reached the bottom of the basement stairs, Gene flicked a switch to turn the lights on. The light was dim and didn’t stop flickering, but the sudden change from the pitch blackness they’d been in momentarily blinded Babe and he blinked a few times to clear the dancing black spots that had appeared in front of his eyes. Gene made his way back to the front of his vision and gently pushed him backwards until he found himself sitting on a small pile of wooden boxes,

“That was quite the bump on the head, Babe” Gene said quietly, fingers soft on Babe’s forehead as he looked closely, “What ya sneakin’ around for anyway?”

The fingers disappeared as Gene went to fetch something from one of the boxes and Babe released the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding the entire time Gene’s fingers had been on his face, “I wasn’t sneakin’ around” He mumbled, fully aware that he sounded like a petulant child. Gene turned back round to face him; one eyebrow raised high on his forehead and a look of mild exasperation present on his face,

“Perhaps I shoulda been clearer. What were ya attempting to sneak around for, before you woke up the entire building?”

Babe rolled his eyes, “Don’t be such a smartass” He knew he was avoiding answering the question, he also knew the Gene knew that as well. Still didn’t mean he was any closer to being able to answer that particular question. Hell, Babe still wasn’t entirely sure why he was here in the first place. The man he had wanted to see was standing right in front of him and Babe was struggling to come up with anything to say to him.

Gene simply smirked at him, that smirk that seemed to make Babe’s stomach do a series of somersaults every time it happened – _get a grip, Heffron –_ and he seemed to have found what it was he’d been rummaging for,

“This is gonna sting” He warned Babe when he walked back over and Babe could see the little iodine swab tube. He almost groaned, but thought better of it. He still sucked air in through his teeth in a hiss when the swab made contact with the cut on his head and made an attempted to jerk his head away, resulting in a _“Stay still”_ from Gene and fingers in a vice-like grip on to his chin, holding his head in place.

After a few moments Gene placed the swab back in the tube and set it down, “Look at me” He instructed, kneeling down in front of Babe, fingers now on his either side of his head as Gene searched his eyes, “Still feeling dizzy or nauseous?”

Babe shook his head, truthfully this time, the nausea had passed and he was fairly certain his somersaulting stomach had little to do with the head injury. Gene nodded and sat down on the stack of boxes next to Babe. There they sat in a relatively comfortable silence while Babe waited for the pounding in his head to stop, he wasn’t quite sure if it had been caused by the fall or by the thoughts in his own head, but Gene seemed content to sit with him.

Surprisingly though, Gene was the one to break the silence,

“Do you think they blame me?”  His voice was quiet and when Babe looked over, pounding head shoved firmly to the bottom of his list of concerns, he saw Gene staring at his own palms,

“Blame you?” Babe repeated, not sure if he understood exactly what Gene meant,

“For Jackson”

_Oh_ “Why would they blame you?” Babe couldn’t help the incredulous tone that had seeped into his voice at the very idea. Gene fell back into silence, only this time there was no relative comfort, now Babe needed to hear some sort of answer from the other man, “Gene?” He prompted, trying to convince him to look up,

“I do”

Babe gaped, “But Gene, why -”

Then Gene did look up, the look in his eyes was almost painful and Babe couldn’t bring himself to look away first. Luckily for him, Gene then turned his gaze on the wall in front of them, “You know, when they called medic, I don’t think I’ve ever reacted so fast in my life” he swallowed and Babe waited for him continue, “I’ve never felt so much panic at that word as I did tonight. Never been so scared by it before. Not even the first time they called for me during combat.”

“Why’s that?”

Gene sighed, chewing the inside of his lip as he contemplated his next words, “I was scared that when I got there-” He stopped to clear his throat and Babe was both eager to hear what was causing the medic to struggle like this, and dreading it at the same time, “- when I got there, it might've been you on that table”

Babe’s eyes widened and, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe, “Me?” But his question appeared to have fallen on deaf ears,

“You know, I was relieved” he stated, a grimace now replacing the blank look on his face, “I was so fucking relieved when Martin told me it was Jackson that’d been hit, for a minute I stopped running. Fucking relieved-” he repeated and scoffed lightly, his voice raising in volume with every word, “- like it was good thing that a young man was screamin’ and dyin’ in agony. Do you know what kind o’ person that makes me?”

“Gene-”

“It makes me a fucking horrible person Babe” Babe wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he realised that at some point Gene gotten to his feet, body humming with pent up self-hatred as he gestured almost wildly with his hands, “It makes me no better a man than those Nazi fucks we at war with”

“Gene, stop it!” Babe almost yelled to break through the medic’s tirade, not wanting to hear those words from the other man's mouth. He got to his feet as well, thankful that the nausea and dizziness had passed, and gripped tightly onto Gene's arms, “Don’t you fucking say shit like that about yourself” If he sounded angry, it was because he felt angry, “You’ve saved so many fucking lives Gene, how could you even fucking think like that?”

Gene’s eyes were hard, staring straight into Babe’s own like a challenge and for a moment Babe thought he might get punched in the face here. Then he deflated, his entire stance crumpled and Babe could feel the hard muscles under his hand relax. Feeling that the other man had calmed down a bit, Babe led him back to the boxes-turned-seats. He waited again, for the other man to break the silence.

“This is why I never wanted to get close to anyone” He said eventually, his voice now quieter, calmer, like the voice Babe had come to know so well, “I never wanted to care for one man above any o’ the others”

Babe placed his hand gently on Gene’s shoulder, almost as though he were approaching a frightened animal, and having to think of Gene like that ranked near the top of the weirdest feelings Babe had ever had, “It’s alright to care about individual people, Gene” He said, “You know, even if that person is, well, me.”  And wasn’t that a strange thought, knowing that Gene cared for him. It was pleasant though, and it caused a bizarre fluttering in his chest.

That same bizarre fluttering was made significantly worse by the look that the medic was currently giving him. It was curious and contemplating, as if Gene was trying to figure something out.

Babe felt himself inch closer the other man, his eyes flicked down at Gene’s lips briefly. They were red and full where Gene had been worrying at them with his teeth and it almost reminded Babe of the pretty red lipstick the girls back home would wear. When his eyes returned to Gene’s own, the expression the other man wore was now open, inviting, and Babe could feel himself being sucked in.

“It ain’t right, you know” There was Gene’s voice, the words negative but the tone light, hushed in a way that told Babe that Gene had felt obligated to say it, but not certain if he agreed with it.

_‘Oh to hell with this’_ And just like that, Babe had a hand on the back of Gene’s neck, a fist in the man’s jacket and his lips pressed firmly against the ones he’d been admiring just seconds before. Babe could feel Gene’s lips move hesitantly beneath his own, the kiss was unsure but reciprocated. It was not wholly unlike kissing a girl, granted the chapped skin and stubble were a bit different, Babe thought to himself, but the rush of adrenaline this contact gave him was something he’d never felt before, like charging into battle with no fear of death.

Spurred on by the lack of any immediate signs of rejection, Babe pushed more insistently into Gene, manoeuvring himself off the boxes so he could be in front of the other man, his upper body leant over him slightly and Gene had to tilt his head up in order to maintain contact. He had one hand gripped onto Babe’s upper arm, the other one behind himself keeping his body upright while Babe pressed into him. He pushed back into Babe just as insistently, his tongue now requesting entrance to the younger man’s mouth. Babe happily granted that request and at that point all of his senses became entirely focused on Gene; the touch of Gene, the smell of Gene, _the taste of Gene_. It was addictive and left Babe short of breath yet craving more. He wrapped his arms around Gene’s waist, pulling his body even closer to Babe’s own as he slipped a leg between the other man’s thighs. He felt Gene re-position his arms to clasp them firmly around Babe’s neck, allowing both of their bodies to press flush against each other. This extra contact, and the small moan that came from the back of Gene’s throat when it happened, had a certain part of Babe’s anatomy responding quite excitedly. Babe gripped tighter with his hands, feeling the muscles in Gene’s back as he pressed himself more firmly into that thigh –

And then the next thing Babe knew he was stumbling back a couple of steps where Gene had lightly but firmly pushed him away. When he re-balanced himself he caught sight of Gene, wide-eyed and panting heavily, on his feet with one hand in his mussed-up hair as he attempted to steady himself on shaky legs. He could see that the man’s lips were red and swollen where Babe had been alternatively nipping and sucking at them. The sight of him like that did nothing to dampen Babe’s interest.

“Fuck” He heard the other man mutter breathlessly, and then repeat a few more times for good measure. 

Babe considered reaching out to him, but thought that that action might well make this new situation worse. The space between them now felt as solid as a wall, “Gene-”

The dark-haired man looked up, his expression a desperate mix of longing and anguish, fearful yet wanting at same time, “I’m so sorry, Babe” he said as he backed up towards the basement stairs.

Babe started following him, “Gene, what-”

“I’m so sorry” He repeated, shaking his head slightly and then turning to make his way back upstairs. Before he left completely he looked at Babe once more, “Keep an eye on that head injury, yeah?” Leaving Babe to make his way back out of the house and down the street again, feeling an awkward mix of confusion and arousal.

The walk back to his own occupied house seemed to take an eternity and Babe knew he was unlikely to get any actual sleep before the patrol had to regroup and report. So he crept into the room, crawled onto the bunk and laid on his back, letting his thoughts wander to what had just occurred in the basement with Eugene Roe.


	5. Understanding and Strengthened Resolve

Eugene, as Babe soon found out, was the master of disappearing when he didn’t want to be found. The man had to be the stealthiest sonofabitch in the entire company, and it was starting to get on Babe’s last nerve. Ever since they’d kissed in the basement in Haguenau almost two weeks ago, Gene had been doing his utmost to avoid him. He wondered how no one else had noticed the medic almost literally running away from him.

Even when Babe had thought he’d managed to corner the other man on occasion, Gene had found some way to escape. Like right now for instance, Babe had spotted Gene relaying information to Spina and he started to make his way over to them. In the next moment, Gene had given Spina a sharp nod and was walking briskly in the opposite direction, leaving Babe standing awkwardly next to Spina, a disappointed expression apparently clear on his face,

“Something the matter, Babe?” The other medic asked, his words slow and careful, almost concerned and Babe realised he didn’t actually know how long he’d been standing there, staring at Gene’s retreating back.

He shook his head slightly, breaking himself out of the trance-like state he’d gotten himself in, “Nothin’,” he replied, “Hey, Spina, where’s Gene heading?” Babe thought it was a very normal question, asked in the most casual of way.

Spina still gave him a slightly suspicious look and shrugged his shoulders, “No idea. You know Doc; the man’s a law unto himself.” Babe nodded in agreement. “Why d’ya wanna know anyway?”

“Oh, just a small medical problem, nothin’ serious”

Spina frowned at him and fixed him with a calculating look. Babe could almost feel himself being sized up by the other man, “You know Babe, Doc’s not the only medic in this company”

_Oh shit_ “Yeah, yeah I know” He’d forgotten who it was he was talking to, “Just, it’s something Gene already knows about, so -” He trailed off, hoping the Spina would accept his half-assed attempt at an explanation.

It seemed to work, because all of sudden a look of understanding passed across the other man’s face, “Oh I see” He said, placing a hand on Babe’s shoulder and leaning in to speak quietly, “I understand, Doc’s great at those more embarrassing problems”

Babe’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth in order to protest. Then the words died in his throat, because how else would he justify wanting to see Gene on his own for a medical condition that he couldn’t talk to Spina about. It was either have the Philly medic believe that Babe had some strange, embarrassing problem that he didn’t want too many people to know about, or have him ask more prying questions.

“Thanks, Spina” Embarrassing medical condition it was then. He chose not to think about what interesting diseases the rest of the guys would start assuming he was infected with. The thing was, Ralph Spina was a gossip. The man could deny it with every last breath in his body, but Babe knew the truth. So Spina’s gossiping tendencies, combined with Lieb, Web and McClung’s knowledge of Babe’s late-night visit with Gene in Haguenau, guaranteed that Babe and his mysterious condition would be the hot topic amongst the company for the foreseeable future.

Babe sighed, made his goodbyes to Spina and continued on his way, taking in the scenery that surrounded him. The German town that they were currently occupying on their campaign through the country was a picturesque little town, with its green forests and fields surrounding quaint houses along cobbled roads. The winter’s chill had left and the air felt fresh with the promise of Spring and Babe was certain he would be able to appreciate it all much more if his head wasn’t full of thoughts about Gene and why he would just run off like he had done.

He huffed, shoved his hands into his coat pockets and kicked an errant pebble to the side of the road. Maybe he was the one with the problem. Maybe Gene was reacting how any other normal person would react when their _male_ friend shoves his tongue down their throat. It was possible that Babe should be feeling more disgusted with himself for having initiated it, after all, his ma had always been very clear that two people of the same gender that participate in acts such as those were sinful and wrong. Babe wasn’t sure he believed her. Back home he knew two women, Kathleen and Susan, who had been ‘roommates’ for as long as he could recall. They were two of the friendliest people Babe had known, always offering a smile and giving advice when it was asked for. For the longest time he had wondered why he never saw any men leave or enter that apartment, until one hot summer’s night he was returning from his shift at Fitz’s and had caught them in a passionate embrace, semi-hidden in the shadows of the alleyway next to their apartment.

He remembered they way they had pleaded with him not to tell anyone their secret, fears of the hatred they would receive from people like Babe’s own ma were at the forefront of their minds and Babe could see the desperation in their eyes. That had been over five years ago now and Babe had dutifully kept that secret locked away. Every time he’d seen either of them since, the smiles and waves felt more personal and full of gratitude, and Babe felt certain that he’d made the right decision-

“Looking a little lost there, Private” _Now isn’t that just a violent jerk out of memory lane_

“Not at all Captain Nixon” Babe replied as the man matched Babe’s own footsteps, “Just feels a little too quiet is all, sir”

Nixon let out breathy laugh, “I hear you. Just doesn’t feel right without some Kraut fucker trying to blow you to bits does it?” Babe had heard this tone before; this sarcastic, scathing tone of voice that suggested the man next to him was in a particularly sour mood. It was little wonder then, that Major Winters was nowhere to be found when usually you’d be hard pressed to find one without the other.

Babe shrugged lightly in response, “I can tell ya honestly, sir, I ain’t about to start complaining.” And it was true. Just a couple of months ago, sitting in his freezing foxhole in Bois Jacques,  Babe would have given anything for just a sliver of the relative peace they currently found themselves in. Sure, the company still had to be on their guard, but their daily soundtrack was now birdsong rather than mortar shells and artillery fire and Babe was determined to enjoy it for as long as he could.

Nixon hummed and fell into a somewhat awkward silence, walking alongside Babe down the cobbled street. This silence lasted for a couple more minutes until it was broken, once more, by Nixon,

“I actually came by to give you some good news” he said lightly, slowing to a halt in front of what looked suspiciously like a liquor store.

“Good news, sir?”

Nixon nodded, “Yeah, you were close to Sergeant Guarnere weren’t you?”

“I was, sir”

“Well, I got the news from HQ and apparently Guarnere and Toye are gonna be just fine. I mean, they’ve both lost a leg but, all things considered, they got off lucky. They’re on a one-way trip back home.”

Well go figure, Nixon hadn’t been lying when he said he had good news. Babe could feel the elation for his friend and comrade well up in his chest and could barely hear Nixon’s softly mumbled _“excuse me”_ as the other man headed for the liquor store. ‘Wild Bill’ Guarnere - the man who never made Babe feel like ‘just a replacement’ - was finally able to go back home to his family and friends. Maybe the world wasn’t such an unfair place after all.

************************

Eugene Roe’s head was a mess of jumbled thoughts and long-supressed memories that had come flooding back to him in a rush. Gene had always known that he wasn’t quite like the other boys he’d grown up with in Louisiana; he’d always been quiet and introverted, keeping mostly to himself for the majority of his youth. And sure, he was as smitten with Eileen Douglas as almost every other pubescent teenage boy had been at the time, but he couldn’t help those same feelings of desire when he looked at Eileen Douglas’s sweetheart, Tom Corbett.

Gene had had a close friend growing up, Wayne Simmons, and they had done everything together. They’d been so close that when Gene confessed to Wayne that he had the same feelings for other boys as he had for girls, he hadn’t expected the look of shock and pure disgust that had crossed over his friends face. He also hadn’t expected to be shoved to the ground while the other boy sneered _‘Stay away from me, fuckin’ queer’_ before running back his own home to let his mother know what Gene had told him.

The weeks that had followed were some of the worst that Gene could remember before the war. The news had travelled fast and it didn’t take long for the insults and taunts to start flying at school, nor it take long for those insults to turn into daily beatings and when after the third consecutive week of returning home with fresh bruises on his skin, Gene’s parents decided it was time to do something about it.

He'd soon been pulled out of middle school and the family moved to Lafayette to live with Gene’s grandparents. His mother had explained to their friends and neighbours that they were _‘taking Gene to see a traiteuse about his condition’_ to which she’d received sympathetic nods and words of pity as they wished her luck in saving her _‘sinful child’_. Technically she had only been half-lying. They were, after all, going to stay with Gene’s grandmother, who was indeed a traiteuse. They weren’t, however, taking Gene to be healed.

He recalled a conversation he had had with his grandmother soon after they’d arrived -

  _“Ah mon cher” He heard his grandmother’s footsteps on the old wooden porch and knew she wasn’t expecting a greeting from him in return. So he waited until she’d made her way over the step he’d perched himself on, “Why don’ ya tell ya Maw Maw all about it?”_

_So apparently it had been more than obvious that he was still thinking about what had happened._

_“I’ve ruined everything Maw Maw” He mumbled, staring down at his hands as he picked at his own nails. She sighed and settled herself down on the step next to her grandson and placed her hands on top of his own, halting his movements to focus his attention completely on her,_

_“Now why woul’ you go sayin’ somethin’ like dat?”_

_“’Cause,” Gene moaned pitifully, “We had ta move away cause ahm sinful an’ messed up – ow!” He was cut off when she slapped him upside the head,_

_“Mais, ca c’est fou!” She exclaimed, her face twisted in anger, not aimed at Gene himself but at the people who’d driven the family from their home, “Don’ you let nobody tell you dat you’s a sinner”_

_“But Maw Maw-” She silenced Gene with her finger and then sighed and smoother her hand down the back of his head where she’d slapped him,_

_“Now you listen ta me, cher, cause ahm only gonna say dis once,” She said, making sure to keep a firm hold on the back of Gene’s head, “Love is beautiful, don’t matter who ya give it ta. Who ya choose ta love ain’t nobody’s business but ya own. It could be a man, a woman, or one o’ dem Caimons out in the bayou,” That got a small chuckle out of Gene, “God don’ care ‘cause God loves all o’ his children. Anyone who tells ya somethin’ diff’rent’s just a bon rien!”_

_Gene smiled at his grandmother and wrapped his arms around her neck, breathing in her familiar of herbs and spices that always brought him so much comfort. “Thanks Maw Maw” He whispered in her ear just before letting his arms fall back to his sides._ _“You’s a good boy, Eugene” She replied gently, “Now, go get yo’self cleaned up, the jambalaya’s almos’ ready”_

_“You’s a good boy, Eugene” She replied gently, “Now, go get yo’self cleaned up, the jambalaya’s almos’ ready”_

-In spite of his family’s acceptance and his grandmother’s comforting words, Gene hadn’t been able to quell his fears of getting too close to people outside of his immediate family. He didn’t want to think of what their reaction would be if anybody ever found out his secret. When he’d been made a medic for Easy Company and they’d told him in training that it was recommended for medic’s to keep their comrades at arm’s length, Gene hadn’t been able to help the feeling of relief that had welled up inside of him.  

He hadn’t, however, counted on a certain Edward Heffron climbing his way over the wall he’d built up around himself, with his easy-going smile, his casual, carefree way of making friends with anybody who met him and his insistence on Gene calling him ‘Babe’. And he certainly hadn’t anticipated the way this man could make him feel in such a short space of time. The rush of long-supressed desire had come flooding back the moment he’d witnessed Babe laughing and joking so easily with Guarnere and Malarkey and it had only been intensified when he had comforted Gene after the loss of Renée. It had felt so natural, _so right_ , to have the other man’s arms wrapped around him in an embrace that had felt entirely too intimate for the situation they were in.

And then Babe had kissed him. He'd  _actually_ kissed him. In a dim basement, with a slightly bloodied head and the sounds of artillery fire above them and it had felt _perfect_. Gene couldn’t suppress the small giddy smile that appeared whenever he thought about it.

Of course, because of who he was and because of his inability to believe that anything good to happen to him, he’d retreated. He’d physically pushed the other man away and had been - sometimes literally - running away from him ever since. Now he was simply waiting for the inevitable fallout. Not from Babe, he wouldn’t even entertain the idea that Babe would willingly try to hurt him, he just wasn’t that sort of man. Instead he was waiting for the rest of the men to find out what he was. Gene wasn’t a stupid man; he knew what could happen to soldiers for this sort of thing. The very idea of being found out scared him more than he cared to admit. Not just for his own sake, but for Babe as well.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, and then exhaled as he leant back against the wall, cigarette hanging loosely in his lips as he allowed these fears to run through his head.

“There you are” _Well, fuck._ Apparently Babe had a knack for finding people when they didn’t want to be found. “You know, you’re a very hard man to pin down” he said lightly, a slight note of aggravation coating the words and Gene supposed he was entitled to that at least,

“I guess I am. Must be one o’ my gifts,” Gene said, cigarette now removed from between his lips, “Smoke?” He offered, holding it out to Babe but refusing to meet his gaze,“Sure” He plucked it from between Gene’s fingers and Gene could have sworn the other man had made sure that contact was made between them, “Not exactly what I was looking for ya for, but I’ll take it” He took a long drag and Gene tried not stare at the man’s lips as they blew smoke into the air around them. Babe handed it back to Gene and then fixed him with a look.

Gene sighed heavily, finished the last of the cigarette, threw it to the ground and then, with a gesture to Babe, made his way into the nearest empty house. Almost as soon as Gene had shut the door, Babe rounded on him,

“What the fuck, Gene?” There were no _slight_ notes of aggravation this time, this was full-blown frustration tinged with anger with an overlaying sense of confusion.

“What do you want me to say, Edward?” Gene threw back, watched as the slight anger that had been in the last sentence started to outweigh the frustration,

“Don’t you fucking dare” He warned, “Don’t you fucking dare with the ‘Edward’ bullshit again” Gene didn’t respond as he fixed his glare away from the other man, knowing that his resolve would crumble away to nothing if he looked at the man’s face. There was silence for a few moments until heard Babe’s footsteps nearing him and he almost considering moving backwards so as to maintain the distance between them. He knew, however, that that action would make this situation far messier than it had any reason to be. Even so, he heard his own breath hitch and he could feel his heartbeat pound in his chest when Babe laid a hand on his upper arm.

“Gene,” He spoke softly this time, the anger from before had dissipated, “I didn’t force myself on you that night, did I?”

That question got Gene’s gaze to snap straight to Babe’s own, eyebrows furrowed, “No!” He exclaimed, “No, Babe, that’s not – why would you think that?”

Babe fixed Gene with an incredulous look, “Well maybe the fact that you’ve been running away from me ever since it happened! I mean, what else is a guy supposed to think?”           

“Babe, I -” Gene wasn’t sure what to say. He could’ve left it at that and let Babe think that Gene hadn’t even wanted it in the first place, but at the same time, it didn’t feel right to leave it like that, “I’m sorry I made you think that”

“So, tell me why then. I think I deserve a fucking explanation, don’t you?”

Gene shrugged off Babe’s hand from his arm and moved to lean against a nearby table, arms folded neatly across his chest as he thought about how to explain his actions of the last couple of weeks. Babe was right, he did deserve a reason, “Don’t ya think it’s wrong? A man bein’ with another man?”

Babe frowned and sighed deeply, “Not especially, no”

“But, ain’t you a Catholic man? The bible says it’s a sin.” Gene insisted, memories of youth flashing to the forefront of his mind, “Anyone who does things like that’s a sinner headin’ straight fo’ hell. That’s what they said ta me. That’s what they called me.”

Just like that, things started making a bit more sense in Babe’s head, “Gene, the bible says a lot of shit’s a sin. I mean, for Christ’s sake, killing’s s’posed to be a sin, sex before marriage’s s’posed to be a sin.”

Gene didn’t reply, he’d heard the same things from his grandmother and he knew that logically they were right, but their words weren’t loud enough to push back the memories of what he’d gone through all those years ago.

“How long?” Babe asked suddenly, startling Gene back into reality,

“What?”

“How long you been into guys? Are you just into guys?”

Gene looked at Babe carefully, “Erm, no. No, not just guys” Did that make it worse? Gene wasn’t certain anymore. Back home they didn’t differentiate; even liking girls as well didn’t stop him being a mistake. “An’ since middle school, I guess. Or at least that’s when I realised I was.”

Babe whistled lowly, “Shit, middle school, really?” Gene nodded, “Fuck, that’s quite young.”

“What about you?” Gene was desperate to take the focus off himself, they were delving dangerously close to talking about his past and he wasn’t ready to open up to Babe quite that much.

“Eh, I didn’t think I was to be honest” Babe said easily, “Spent my whole life, up ‘til now, chasing broads. Ain’t never really looked at guys.” He let out a low laugh, “Maybe I’m not into guys at all. Maybe I’m just into you, Gene.” It was said with a smile, light-hearted but undeniably honest and it should have made Gene feel like floating, but he was grounded by the weight of the guilt that had settled on his shoulders.

Babe came to stand next to where Gene was leaning, placing a hand gently on Gene’s cheek. “Babe” Gene sighed, his eyes closing involuntarily at the touch as he leaned ever so slightly into it, yet still a small frown was present on his face, “You know we can’t”

Babe pulled his arm back again, “And why the fuck not? Don’t you want to?”

Gene immediately missed the warmth of Babe’s hand on his skin and pushed himself off the table, making his way closer to the exit, “You know I do, Babe, but I don’t wanna be the one to get you court martialled. You know as well as I do what they could do to us”

“What if I’m willing to take that risk?” Babe insisted, watching as Gene backed towards the door, “Gene, you don’t get to make my decisions for me.”

Gene shook his head, raising his hands to halt any movement that Babe might have made towards him, “You already told me you ain’t ever felt like this for another man before,” he said, his voice sounded melancholic and somewhat helpless, “And I can’t let you ruin your life for me. I’m sorry, Babe, but you gotta forget it ever happened.” He could feel his throat tighten as the words left his mouth, so he pressed his lips together in a tight line, turned, and walked back out of the building, hoping that Babe hadn’t spotted the slight tremble to his lips before he'd turned and the crack in his voice on that last sentence.

Once more, Babe was left staring at the spot that Gene had previously stood in, debating his next move. He knew it had killed Gene to say what he’d just said. He needed the other man to understand that Babe knew the risks involved, but that he also hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since that night in Haguenau. Babe shook his head to clear his thoughts, steeled his resolve and walked out of the door as well, determined to get Gene to understand his point of view.


	6. Day of Hell, Night of Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to point out again, in case you didn't notice, this chapter has bumped the rating up, so don't say I didn't warn you!

The stench of death filled all of Babe’s senses and he felt like he’d just walked into the inner circle of hell. Rotting flesh, piss and shit made his eyes water and his stomach turn in the most unpleasant of ways as he surveyed what lay before the company. When Major Winters had announced that Perconte had informed him of a situation that needed to be addressed, and that Easy were the ones that were going to assess it, none of the men had been prepared for what awaited them.

There were rows upon rows of sheds, from where hundreds of skeletal yet living people were emerging. People that had clearly not seen a good meal, nice wash or even a friendly face in – well Babe couldn’t even begin to estimate how long these people had been locked in here. Locked away from society like animals. He wondered, briefly, what torture these poor souls had been through, and then he decided that he really didn’t even want to know.

He could distantly hear Liebgott communicating with one of the _somewhat healthier_ members of this hellhole, as they tried to work out what these people were doing here in the first place, for what possible reason there could be to lock up and torture people in this way. He saw the other soldiers walking around the site, looking for something to make sense of, something that might give them answers to questions they didn’t want to ask. He could see more piles of dead bodies being discovered; loaded into containers, lining the walkways, thrown against the sides of the sheds and Babe had to suppress his urge to gag as that putrid smell continued to hit the back of his throat. 

He felt as though he was in a daze and he tried to focus on keeping one foot in front of the other. Eventually this brought him to Perconte, who was standing in front of one of the large containers, eyes unmoving from the gory sight of the half-decayed bodies spilling out of opened doors.

“Perconte” Babe greeted as he came to a stop next to the other man. Perconte just let out a low rumble from within his throat and an accompanying nod as a reply, “Can you believe this shit?”

Perconte tore his eyes away from the container to look at Babe, “When I signed up for this war, I knew I would see pretty fucked up things,” he began, Babe knew this as well, they’d warned everyone during their training of the things they might see, “but this,” he gestured to the ominous container, upper lip curled and a look of disbelief in his eyes, “I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for this shit”

“You know, I keep hoping I’m gonna suddenly wake up and this’ll have been just another dream,” Babe sighed, looking once more at the sight in front of him, “But, then again, I don’t want to think that my head could imagine anything like this”

Perconte just _‘hmm’ed’_ and nodded and that was that, there were no more words that could have been said and conversation just couldn’t flow in the midst of all of this. Babe glanced around at the rest of Easy’s men, most of the soldiers were like him and Perconte, wandering around almost aimlessly, and trying to process the horrors they were witnessing whilst awaiting their orders. Only the officers who were making plans for what to do next, any soldiers that spoke even the most basic German who could gather information that could clarify what this place was and why these people were here, and the medics who were assessing each person to work out who needed the most urgent care before they could get professional medical treatment.

In a way, Babe envied all of them, the way that they could focus on something that could help these people. He’d never felt more useless in his life and he hated it.

************************

The sky outside had gone black by the time Easy company had returned from what Babe had dubbed _the torture camp._ This pretty little village that Babe had been admiring as Easy had driven into it earlier that day, now felt ugly and dark with the secrets that lay within the woodlands that surrounded it. Babe couldn’t go back to occupied house that he was staying in, with its nice warm bed and cosy surroundings. Not after seeing what he’d seen today, he knew he’d be plagued by nightmares and guilt. They’d had to leave those prisoners in that camp. Lock them back away like animals again after giving them a taste of freedom and fresh food on the orders of the regimental surgeon. The reasons had been explained to them and the explanations made sense, but Babe still felt that it was cruel compromise.

Babe continued making his way down the street, no destination in mind but a compelling need to keep moving. It was during this aimless walking that he spotted a figure leaning against the side of a building and instinctively Babe went for his rifle, swinging it around to the front of his body and getting ready to aim it, when he realised that he recognised the lone figure.

“Gene?” He questioned, letting his posture relax as he put his rifle back to its previous position, “What are you doing out here?” Babe had thought every other sane person was currently getting a good night’s sleep; ready to be on the move again the next day,

“Could ask the same of you, couldn’t I?” Gene replied, lifting his head to look up at Babe and now that Babe could see the other man’s face, he could see the exhaustion in his eyes, in the downward turn of his mouth and in the defeated slump of his shoulders.

Babe shrugged, “I s’pose you could, yeah” He said simply, moving to lean against the wall next to Gene. He could feel Gene watch him carefully and he knew that the memories of their last conversation were still fresh in his mind. He stuck his hand in his pocket and brought out a cigarette packet and a lighter, holding them up for Gene to see, “Smoke?” He offered.

Gene looked from the cigarette packet to Babe’s face, giving Babe the distinct impression that he was being assessed, before nodding shortly. Babe smiled and handed the offering over to Gene, watching him light up and take a long drag, blowing the smoke into the night air and then giving the lighter back to Babe, who proceeded to follow suit, feeling his body relax as he took the first drag.

“So, Gene,” Babe started, trying to keep away the silence as best he could. It wasn’t that he felt uncomfortable with Gene, but the more silent it was, the more Babe’s thoughts went back to that prison camp and he’d had quite enough of dwelling on that, “Have – have you got any plans after all this?”

“Plans?” Gene repeated, tilting his head to one side thoughtfully, “'Side from going back ta Louisiana, I don’t s’pose I have, no. You?”

Babe pondered it for a moment, taking another long drag on his cigarette before replying, “I’m not sure, if I’m honest. I guess I’ll go back to Philly, find a place to live and try to get my old job working the bar back” He hadn’t really given ‘after the war’ much thought. It was quite difficult making plans for it when you’re not sure if there would even be an ‘after the war’. Perhaps that was how Gene felt as well. Perhaps that was how most of the men felt, oh sure they’d all told stories of what they’d like to do after all was said and done, but how many of them really gave much thought to a plan, “Just try to get back to normal, I guess” He finished simply.

Gene huffed slightly, “Don’t think I’ve ever known what normal feels like” He muttered, and Babe didn’t need to ask what he meant, didn’t even know if the statement had been directed at him or not, but he’d already worked out that Gene’s life before the war hadn’t been all sunshine and roses, he figured he’d had plenty of trials and tribulations before the army had ever slapped a red cross on his arm.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had once more fallen over them, and watched Gene drop the cigarette butt to the pavement below, then turn to look at Babe, a thoughtful expression on his face. Babe wasn’t sure what to make of it. The medic had never been particularly easy to read, but right at this moment he was being especially closed off. _Maybe,_ Babe thought, _Gene’s just feeling uncomfortable around me and this is his subtle way of telling me to piss off._ The thought was not a pleasant one and Babe was just about ready to give Gene back his own space, throwing his own cigarette butt to the ground and pushing himself off the wall, throwing Gene a half-hearted “See ya” before taking a couple of steps in the other direction –

And then he felt a hand curled around his bicep, halting any further movement. He turned to look back at the other man, a look of confusion on his face,

“Gene, what -” Babe stuttered to a stop when he saw the look on Gene’s face. It was open and determined at the same time, eyes wide and deadly serious. He was looking at Babe as if he’d just been hit and was currently bleeding out in front of him. Only there were no serious wounds, no possibility of his life ending any second now and when Gene tugged at his arm, Babe could do nothing but allow himself to be pulled along the same pavement he’d just walked down.

**********************

They’d been walking for felt like hours, but in reality was probably just five or so minutes, Babe couldn’t tell but when you’re being dragged by your arm to an unknown destination by a man you thought would never want to touch you again, it was a little bit difficult to keep track of time. What Babe did know, however, was that they were nearing the edge of the village, heading for one of the more isolated barns and he wasn’t sure he could even hazard a guess at what this impromptu walk was in aid of.

On the plus side, it seemed that Gene at least knew where he was going as they weaved around fence posts and half-walked, half-ran across the grass between the track road and the barn. Gene’s grip had turned almost vice-like on Babe’s arm, fingers digging in with a white-knuckled strength as though he was scared that Babe would bolt if given half the chance. Babe wasn’t planning to bolt; he was too intrigued by this odd turn of events.

Finally they reached the entrance of the barn and Babe noted how empty and quiet it was. Okay, so it was nice and peaceful, potentially a good place for regrouping your thoughts, but they were leaving the next day and Babe couldn’t work out why Gene had dragged them all the way out here.

Or rather, Babe hadn’t been able to work it out until he felt Gene’s hand on his shoulders, pushing him back against one of the barns pillars and the finally, _finally_ , after nearly a month of waiting, Babe was allowed to feel the hard press of Gene’s lips against his own. His shock must have been evident in his lack of response because he could feel Gene just start to pull back. _Oh no you don’t_ and he managed to force his arms to co-operate and work their way around Gene’s waist, pulling the other man’s body closer to him, desperate to feel as much of the man as he was allowed, before either Gene ran away again or the owner of this barn made their presence known. Both scenarios were quite likely and Babe really wanted to get the most out of this opportunity.

He could feel the presence of a barely-there smile against his mouth and Babe used the moment to taste Gene, licking his way inside the other man’s mouth. He could feel the hands that had been on his shoulders move up his neck, skimming the skin there, before fingers were buried in his hair, gripping onto the short red strands and Babe might have thought it painful, if he weren’t busy savouring every last morsel of this moment. His entire body thrummed with desire and it almost physically hurt to pull away when he heard the small, low moan from Gene.

“Gene,” He whispered against the other’s mouth, allowing Gene a bit of freedom to move back slightly, but his hands still had a firm hold on the man's hips. He was also fully aware that his voice already sounded somewhat wrecked, “Gene, what’s goin’ on here?” _Please, please don’t run again._

Gene didn’t run, in fact he barely moved at all except to rest his forehead more firmly against Babe’s, chest expanding rhythmically with his heavy breathing and eyes closed. His hands had relaxed their hold on Babe’s hair, instead sliding down to rest lightly on either side of his neck. He held that position for a few more moments and Babe briefly wondered whether the exhausted man had actually fallen asleep like that, until his eyes blinked open,

“Please don’t, Babe,” He murmured softly, his eyes searching what he could see of Babe’s face while their foreheads were still touching, “I don’t wanna have to think right now. I just want to be able to forget. Just for a little while.” He leaned away then, eyes finding Babe’s and only then, under the pale moonlight streaming in through the barn’s windows, did Babe realise how Gene looked. He had dirt streaked across his face, his dark eyes were red-rimmed and puffy-looking, but holding Babe’s own gaze with a look that was bright with desire. A look that Babe could guarantee was reflected in his own eyes.

“Gene, I -”

“Please, Babe” Gene leant forward again, his mouth as close to Babe’s as he could get it without actually touching, “ _Me faire oublier_ ” His words grew low in volume, tone breathy and husky and full of want as they ghosted across Babe’s lips and Babe knew he’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity, regardless of what the consequences might be later. So he surged forward, capturing Gene’s lips again and enjoying the way Gene responded almost instantly, parting his lips and pressing his body hard against Babe’s in a desperate need to simply _feel._

A heady smell permeated the room as the air grew warmer around them and Babe could feel himself hardening in response to having Gene so close. He allowed himself to rock his hips slowly, lightly, into Gene’s. It was Babe’s way of testing the waters, to check that he hadn’t read Gene’s signals wrong. So when Gene reciprocated the action and moaned low into his mouth, he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face as he switched their positions, using his body to press Gene firmly into the pillar, their slow rocking having grown more urgent, more desperate and Babe could feel Gene’s own growing hardness even through their regulation trousers.

Babe detached his mouth from Gene’s, eliciting a whimpered gasp of protest until he began to suck small kisses down the side of Gene’s face and into his neck. Gene’s hands had settled on Babe’s hips as Babe’s fingers made light work of the man’s jacket, slipping it off his shoulders before getting to work on his shirt, all the while mentally cursing the amount of layers that were involved in these uniforms. A couple of times he briefly considered just yanking the shirt off, buttons be damned, but he knew that would probably land Gene with a load of questions and might result in Babe never being allowed to do this again.

Finally, with a lot of fumbling and a few choice curses, Babe was awarded with the pale expanse of Gene’s bare skin, skin that almost appeared to glow under the bluish light of the moon. He stepped back to both admire the view and to rid himself of his own jacket and shirt, shivering slightly as the night air hit his sweat-slick skin. Apparently, Gene proved to be an impatient sort and Babe was only given a minute or so before he was pulled back against the other man, chests pressed flush against each other and the chill of the night air seemed a distant memory as he once more found his lips attached to Gene’s own. Now he allowed his hands full freedom to dance across the skin of Gene’s back, taking note of each scar that marred the smooth, soft skin.

In the back of his mind, he wondered how many times Gene had been grazed by an errant bullet or a stray piece of shrapnel in order to gain this collection of imperfections. This thought, however, was thrown right out of his head when he felt Gene’s lithe fingers graze his lower abdomen, the skin there tingled at the unexpected touch and caused Babe to gasp against Gene’s lips. Gene pulled away from his lips as he licked, sucked and nipped his way down Babe’s neck, those same fingers deftly unbuckled his belt, popped open his button and pulled down the zipper of his flies.

Gene continued his path down Babe’s upper body, every touch of his lips against Babe’s oversensitive skin felt like a small electric shock flowing through him. When Gene finally slipped his hand into the waistband of his boxers to wrap his fingers around the length of Babe’s now completely hard, leaking cock, Babe’s legs almost gave out underneath him,

“Fuck, Gene” He groaned breathily, closing his eyes at the sensations that were running through him as Gene began to move his hand up and down his length, flicking his wrist just so in order to run his fingers across the tip, spreading the pre-come down the rest of the length to create a delicious friction. He hadn't noticed that the other man had sunk completely down to his knees and he almost whined in protest when Gene’s hand disappeared until he felt Gene’s tongue lick a stripe up the underside of his length. A deep, guttural moan was ripped out of his throat when he felt Gene’s mouth enclose over the head of his cock and he had to brace himself against the pillar to keep himself upright. “Oh fuck, that feels so fucking good, Gene” He groaned, one hand pressed against the wood taking his body weight, while the other was buried in Gene’s hair, tugging at the black strands as Gene smiled around his cock and then proceeded to set a steady pace, taking Babe into his mouth as far as he could and then drawing him back out again.

Gene’s mouth was hot and wet and he alternated between licking and sucking lightly, running his tongue over the head of Babe’s cock and flicking it across the slit. _‘Fuck, how is he so good at this’_ Babe wondered, worried about how long he was going to last. It had been so long since anyone had touched him in this way and Gene kept making these delicious little noises that vibrated right through Babe’s entire body.

Babe could feel himself nearing completion, his entire body tensing with the expected release and so he tugged gently on Gene’s hair, signalling for the other man to get back to his feet. Gene did so, almost reluctantly, looking a little bit put out that he’d had to stop before Babe had reached his climax. But Babe knew what he was like when he finished and it was usually very sleep and boneless and not much use to anyone, and he wanted to give Gene some pleasure as well. So he brought the man up to face level, admiring how red and slick his lips now looked and Babe could help but claim them again, sucking the bottom lip into his own mouth and nipping gently at it, drawing another small moan from Gene’s throat.

He started to lower his hands down Gene’s body, paying extra attention to the other man’s nipples and enjoying the slightly shocked gasp that came from him when Babe thumbed the sensitive buds. Babe noted how the man shivered and tensed slightly when Babe’s fingers scattered down his stomach and on his abdomen. _Gene is ticklish_ he smiled and then filed that piece of information way for later before realising with degree of surprise that Gene had clearly been using his own hand to give himself pleasure,  _Well no wonder he’d been making those wonderful noises down there._

Babe quickly replaced Gene’s hand with his own, wrapping his fingers around Gene’s hard cock and feeling a new wave of pleasure shoot through him when the other man tore his mouth away from Babe’s as his name fell from Gene’s lips, “Fuck Babe” he panted, his hands in a white-knuckled grip on Babe’s shoulders as Babe pumped up and down his length, applying just the right amount of pressure and bringing his thumb over the head in a way that he knew was pleasurable for himself, satisfied that it must have been good for Gene judging by the noises he was currently making.

For a man that was so quiet in day-to-day life, Gene certainly made up for it when someone was giving him pleasure. A litany of curses, moans and grunts filled the silence around until Babe recaptured Gene’s mouth for fear that someone might discover them. Gene moved one hand up to cup the back of Babe’s head, the other making its way back down Babe’s body in order to wrap his own fingers around the other man’s cock once again.

Eventually Gene broke away from Babe’s lips again to pant, “Fuck Babe. Babe, _merde, je jouis. Je jouis-”._ Babe’s knowledge of the French language was more-or-less non-existent, but when he heard a loud groan in his ear and the tell-tale hot splashes hitting his stomach and dribbling down his hand, he had a pretty good idea of what Gene had said. The combination of the noises Gene had made and the touch of his hand on Babe’s already overly-sensitive cock, had Babe following suit moments later, thrusting weakly through his release and holding Gene as close as he could, as he came with the other man’s name on his lips.

And there they stood, resting against that pillar, arms wrapped around each other and foreheads pressed together as they both waited to catch their breaths. Babe tucked them both back in to their boxers and then cupped both of his hands around the back of Gene’s neck, pressing one kiss to his lips, and then one more just for good measure.

“Fuck, Gene, that was something else” He murmured against the other’s lips. Gene just replied with a _‘hmm’_ of sated agreement, a lazy smile playing on his mouth. “You mind telling me, though, what brought it all on?” Babe couldn’t help it, and despite how good it had been, he couldn’t say he wasn’t confused as all hell.

Gene, for his part, didn’t look offended. He simply shrugged slightly and replied, “I guess I realised that – well, that life’s too short not to go for the things you want”. Like it was the simplest explanation in the world.

“You know” Babe said, with a smile, “You could’ve realised that a bit sooner” His tone was light and teasing and it drew a small chuckle from Gene,

“Perhaps” He replied, not offering anymore by way of an explanation, instead choosing to press a brief kiss to Babe’s lips and then push him away lightly, “C’mon, we gotta get sorted and get outta here, ‘fore someone comes lookin’” He picked up Babe’s shirt from the floor and chucked it in his general vicinity, before pulling on his own and making himself look vaguely less like he’d just come down from a post-orgasm high.

As Gene was zipping up his jacket and making his way to the entrance they’d slipped in through what felt like hours ago, Babe cleared his throat, “Hey, um, Gene?”

“Yeah Babe?”

“This, uh – this ain’t a one-time thing, right?” Babe didn’t know what he’d do if Gene answered in the affirmative. A one-time tryst in a barn in the middle of Germany wasn’t what Babe had wanted from Gene. Babe didn’t even what it was he _did_ want from Gene, but he knew it wasn’t that. He saw the other man lick his lips, an unreadable expression on his face and he mentally brace himself for the worst.

What he didn’t expect was for Gene to walk back over to him, cup his cheeks in both hands and press a firm kiss on his lips, then whisper, “No, Babe. No, this ain’t no one-time thing. I – I can’t promise anything concrete. But I do like you Babe – probably more’n I should – and I do want _something_ with you.”

Babe smiled, took Gene’s hands from his face and held on to them briefly as he replied, “S’ok Gene, I don’t expect any promises. We’ll just take it as goes yeah?” Gene smiled back and nodded, “Good, now let’s go. Like you said, don’t want anyone to come lookin’”


	7. A Moment of Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys! This one's a bit of a filler chapter and unbeta'd because real life is giving me a mild headache but I wanted to get a chapter of somewhat calmness out before in-fic drama happens!   
> (Also I've recently been complete Webgott trash so there's a mild squint-for-it hint in here!)

It wasn’t long after the discovery of the camp that the nightmares began to start. Not for Babe, nor for Gene, but for Liebgott. Ever since their stay in Haguenau Babe had taken to sharing rooms with Liebgott, Webster and McClung over the course of their campaign across Germany. That was, of course, when he wasn’t off trying to find some privacy with Gene as they each tried to learn as much about each other as they could in darkened corners of empty rooms during quieter moments, desperate for each other but hyper-aware that someone could catch them at any moment. And though the thought of it gave Babe a bit of a thrill, it completely terrified Gene.

Babe recalled one of their trysts, a week into their stay in Thalham, when halfway through the act Gene thought he’d heard footsteps climbing the stairs up to the room they’d found and, in his panic, had pushed Babe hard onto the floor. This resulted in Babe landing face-first - _of course -_ onto the hard wood and a very flustered Gene subsequently apologising profusely and fussing over the quickly blossoming bruise that had started to form over his left eyebrow. Of course neither of them got off that night, but it had meant that Babe had the chance to gain more of an insight into Gene’s childhood, family and how he’d come to be how he was. It had been a fascinating conversation and Babe knew his feelings for Gene were growing stronger the more time he spent with the other man. He only wished he knew what was going on in Gene’s head.

The two men were walking along one of the debris-covered streets of Thalham, surveying the scenes of destruction that surrounded them and avoiding the bits of rubble and broken furniture that hadn’t yet been piled up into mounds as their owners attempted to clear up what they could, when they almost walked straight into a somewhat dazed looking David Webster.

“Hey Web” Babe greeted,

“Babe. Doc.” He returned with a nod to both of them, his mind still clearly elsewhere.

“How’s, uh - how’s Lieb doing?” Babe had been just a little bit concerned about the state of the man. Liebgott had always had a bit of a temper on him; a very short fuse that had a tendency to blow up when it ran out. This temper could flare up even towards on his comrades, but when it came to the Germans –well Babe didn’t think anyone in the division hated the German soldiers to quite the extent that Liebgott did, a hatred that had been further heightened after the discovery of the camp. Babe couldn’t blame him for it; in fact no one could really blame him for it, but Babe, Webster and McClung had all heard the cries and the restless thrashing about that came from the man in the middle of the night.

Web, who’d once tried to go to Liebgott during one of these night terrors and had promptly received a punch in the jaw for his troubles and a lack of any sympathy _\- or even acknowledgement -_   the morning after, shrugged in response to Babe’s question , “I don’t know, Babe,” he added, “You know what Lieb’s like. He won’t fucking talk to anyone. Not properly anyway.” The last part had been mumbled, and Babe had seen first-hand the amount of times Web had tried to get Liebgott to talk, only to have it shoved back in his face. A lesser man might have given up after the first two attempts, but Web was apparently persistent and Liebgott was now very rarely seen without Web somewhere in his general vicinity.

“What do you think, Doc?” Web asked suddenly, addressing the other man who’d kept very quiet throughout the entire exchange.

Gene frowned slightly, “What d’ya mean?”

“You know, what would you do if you were in my position? About Lieb?”

Gene’s frown deepened slightly. He knew what Webster was getting at, he knew he was looking for answers but he also knew that he couldn’t give him those answers, “Hell, Webster, I couldn’t tell ya”

Webster’s look darkened, lips pressed into a thin line and Babe was slightly worried about where this was going, “What do you mean you can’t tell me? Why the fuck can’t you tell me?” His voice sounded both angry and frustrated at the same time, "You're the doc, aren't you supposed to know this stuff?" He took a step closer to Gene. Every nerve in Babe’s body was telling him to step in, to tell Web to back off knowing that Gene wouldn’t do it himself. But he knew that that would be overstepping his boundaries and that Gene’s reaction would likely not be a favourable one.

Gene seemed to be handling himself just fine anyway, holding Webster’s glare steadily with his back ramrod-straight and his shoulders squared in a posture that, while not confrontational, was definitely defensive, “Look, I’m sorry Webster, but I’m just a medic. I can’t diagnose problems any more than you can. If you think Liebgott’s suffering from combat fatigue then you gotta talk to Captain Speirs.” Gene watched Webster’s expression change, his shoulders deflating as he back out of Gene’s personal space again, at the mention of ‘combat fatigue’. It was something nobody wanted for themselves or for any of their buddies,

“You really think that’s what it is?”

Gene sighed and let his own posture relax, “I really can’t tell ya for certain,” he reiterated, “But no, I think the man’s angry, frustrated - just like the rest o’ us - those were _his_ people he saw in there. Can you even imagine what he must be feeling?”

Webster breathed deeply through his nose, letting the rest of the pent-up tension seep out of his body, his own anger at the situation momentarily forgotten, “You’re right. I’m sorry Doc, you’re right.”

“Maybe you should just let him know you’re there for him.” Babe chipped in, assured that the potential for confrontation had definitely passed, “But, you know, don’t crowd him or nothing. I mean, it _is_ Lieb after all. You don’t wanna go getting yourself another dice in the mouth”

That drew a reluctant smile and an agreeing nod out of the other man, “Oh, did you guys hear the news?” He asked suddenly, just as Babe and Gene had turned to move on,

“News?” Gene questioned,

“Yeah. Hitler’s dead. Shot himself in the head apparently.” Well, that explained the dazed look on Webster’s face when they’d first bumped into him.

“Shit.” Babe murmured, “So – What happens now?”

“Our orders are to move out to Berchtesgaden”

**********************

The drive into Zell am See was quiet. Conversation had grown stilted, consisting mainly of fragmented sentences that didn’t have the chance to be anything tangible from men who didn’t know what to say, but couldn’t stand the silence. The men were relieved after the successful, and surprisingly easy, capture of Hitler’s Eagles Nest. But they were also tired and confused, having been told that even though the war in Europe was officially over, they still weren’t allowed to return home unless they had enough points. Most of them didn’t.

Gene was admiring the scenery they were travelling through; rolling hilltops and sparkling lakes that broke up the brilliant green of the woodlands, the air was fresh and clean and inviting, and a stark contrast to the ruined streets of Thalham, the putrid stench of Landsberg, and the freezing cold of Bastogne. He felt a nudge on his right side and turned to look at Spina,

“So, what d’ya reckon? Think we’ll be allowed to go home soon?” The other medic said, voice hushed as though the silence that permeated the troops was mandatory.

Gene felt it was only right, then, to talk with the same hush tones, “I don’t know Spina. Don’t even know what we’re doing here.” That seemed to be the general feeling amongst all the men, _what is the point? It’s over so why aren’t we going home._ “You got plans? Y’know, for when you get home?” Because that was a very real possibility now, it was something that they could think about seriously and not have it feel like a foolish hope.

Spina shrugged nonchalantly, “I didn’t. Kinda figured I’d never make it this far, y’know.” He let out a small breathy chuckle and gazed out over the mountains in the distance, “But I’m lookin’ forward to going back to Philly. This place may look like somethin’ out of a fairytale, but it ain’t home is it?” Gene gave a hum of acknowledgement. “You lookin’ forward to going home, Doc?”

There was that question again. That elusive ‘after the war’ question. That question that Gene didn’t know how to even begin to answer. He supposed he was looking forward to seeing his family again, to seeing Louisiana again and to not having to live on his nerves all the time. But what else was waiting for him back home? He couldn’t help but think of what he would potentially be leaving behind as well. Realising he’d been silently staring out at nothing for a good minute or so, Spina now looking curiously at him as he waited, he finally shrugged and muttered a vacant “Yeah” and let the conversation draw to a close. He could almost feel the still slightly concerned look aimed at the back of his head from Spina, but he didn’t have it in him to elaborate further.

As he turned to look at the rest of the troops in the other trucks, he caught sight of the vibrant red of Babe’s hair and he let his mind wander to how drastically their relationship had changed. Gene had known he was attracted to Babe from the very first time he’d met the man. Babe, with his warm eyes and easy smile, his infectious laughter and inviting personality which so readily drew people to him. Babe, who had so easily wedged himself into Gene’s heart, like he was always meant to be there.

No, Gene didn’t know what he was going to do after the war. Because after the war meant that Babe would be going back to South Philadelphia and Gene would go back to Louisiana and Babe may have said that he didn’t want a one-time thing, but that didn’t mean that Gene wanted the man to give up on a normal future, with a wife and kids and a family that were proud of him, no matter how important he’d become to him. And perhaps Gene could do the same, and live the rest of his life pretending that half of his heart wasn’t over 1000 miles away from him.

He hadn’t realised he was staring at the back of Babe’s head until the other man had turned round and offered him a bright smile and a discreet wink. Gene could help but smile back and shake his head slightly. Regardless of what happened when the war was officially over, Gene would enjoy the time he had left with the man who had stolen his heart.

*********************

Babe heard a low whistle and then, “Jesus Christ, would you get a load of this place” in a hushed whisper from Burton Christenson on his left-hand side. Babe wasn’t about to argue with him. Zell am See had to be among the most beautiful places he’d ever seen, and he’d seen quite a few places since he’d shipped out.

The troops piled out of their trucks and while Babe stood to admire the buildings that lined the streets, he heard someone move to stand next to him,

“Those Nazi fucks sure knew how to live the good life didn’t they?” Babe turned to look at Liebgott, “Sitting in fucking luxury on top of the world, while everyone below them suffers. Treating other human beings, my people, like fucking animals. Worse than fucking animals even.” The man’s lip was curled up in disgust and when he turned to look at him, Babe could see the hatred burning in his eyes. “You catch wind of any Kraut officers, you let me know yeah?”

Babe nodded, “Sure thing Lieb” and watched as the other man strode away, letting out a sigh of relief. Like Gene had told Webster, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how Liebgott was feeling, but that didn’t mean that this state he was in wasn’t scary as fuck. At this point he thought he’d rather be on the receiving end of Captain Speir’s rage before Liebgott’s.

“Found Lieb then did you?” Babe had been so focussed on that very brief encounter with Liebgott, that when another person made their presence known behind him he couldn’t help but startle and let out sharp gasp, possibly indicating just how shot to pieces his nerves had become,

“Jeez, Web, would you warn a guy next time!” He exclaimed, willing his heart rate to return to normal as Webster smirked at him, “Yeah, yeah I did why?”

Webster looked in the direction that Liebgott had stalked off to, “I told you, didn’t I?”

“What, you keeping an eye on him or something?”

“Well, yeah, I guess so. Someone’s got to”

Babe gave him a perplexed look, one eyebrow raised high on his forehead, “If you say so Web” He remarked.

Webster sighed and turned to look at Babe, “He wants to kill any Kraut officer he comes across” He muttered, “Says he’s going to make sure they had something to do with the camps first. But I doubt it’ll make a difference to him”

Babe shrugged, “So?”

“I don’t think the higher-ups would look on it too favourably if Kraut officers are being shot when the wars meant to be over” Web pointed out, brow furrowed at Babe’s nonchalance.

“Look, Web, the way I see,” He began, laying a hand on Web’s upper arm, “Ain’t nobody gonna care if a few of these Nazi fuckers are found with bullets in their heads. And if it helps Lieb sleep at night, well then I’m all for it”

Webster slowly chewed the inside of his lip as he contemplated Babe’s words. It was a nervous habit he’d picked up during their stay in Haguenau and as he watched, Babe found himself wondering what nervous ticks some of the other men had gained over the course of the war. “Maybe you’re right Babe” Webster’s agreement dragged Babe out of his own mind and he blinked a couple of times to refocus himself.

“I know I’m right” He smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood before fishing a cigarette and his lighter out of his pocket, lighting up and feeling the rush of nicotine relax him as he took a long drag, “If it makes you feel better, why don’t you go with him?”

It was intended as a joke, but he caught sight of the way Webster’s face lit up and knew instantly that he’d planted a seed that had taken root.

 “Good idea Babe, thanks” Webster smiled and all but ran off in the direction that Liebgott had gone.

Babe shook his head lightly as he watched him go. If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought that he and Gene weren’t the only ones with secrets that didn’t need sharing. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It wouldn’t do to be meddling about in the affairs of others, when the last thing he needed was for someone to be doing the same to him. He instead let his thoughts wander back Gene, as they so often did nowadays, and wondered where the medic had run off to once the convoy had stopped.

He took one last drag from his cigarette and then dropped it to the floor, extinguishing it with the toe of his boot before he made his way up the picturesque street, intentions set firmly on finding the other man. This was the most peaceful place they’d been to throughout the whole of the war and Babe knew exactly who he wanted to experience it with.

Gene, as it turned out, was not a hard man to find when he wasn’t actively avoiding you. It didn’t take Babe long to search him out amongst the recently erected tents. All he’d had to do was finding the medical ones and,  _wouldn’t you know it,_ there he was, checking on the supplies and make sure he knew exactly where everything was, just in case he needed something urgently. Babe leant lightly against one of the supports keeping the tent canvas up and allowed a lazy smile to play on his lips as he watched the man sort through boxes, seemingly focussing all of his attention on his task.

It came as a bit of a surprise to Babe then, when he heard Gene say, “You are not as subtle as you seem to think you are”, a hint of amusement to his voice and his back still facing Babe, giving no sign as to how he knew the other man was standing there.

Babe smirked slightly, one side of his mouth curled up as he let the tent flap fall down, effectively blocking them from prying eyes. He slowly crept up to where Gene stood, making sure to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible as he crossed the empty floor. He’d just about reached the other man, when all of a sudden he found himself staring straight into Gene’s deep blue eyes.

“Still not subtle. How in the hell did you manage to survive the war?” A smile was playing on the medic’s lips, eyes bright with amusement and Babe was struck by how much younger the man looked with the worry lines that had been present on his face for so long smoothed out and a healthy flush of colour on his cheeks. He looked every bit the 23 years he was supposed to be and Babe wondered how much older had _he_ looked during the worst of the battles.

He realised he must have been standing there, staring at Gene almost blankly for slightly too long, because he watched the smile slip slowly from Gene’s face, to be replaced by an almost concerned look and questioning, “Babe?”

Babe blinked a couple of times, his casual, easy smile reappearing on his face as he shrugged loosely, “Nothing” He said, “I just – I like – looking at your face?” _Well it wasn’t a lie._

Gene’s furrowed brow deepened, but the amused smile had come back and he stepped one step closer to Babe, “You like lookin’ at my face?”

“Well, yeah,” Babe replied, his face had broken out into a full-blown grin and he took hold of Gene’s shoulders, “It’s a good face”

“Uh thanks – I think.” Babe laughed under his breath as he pulled Gene in close and buried his face into the crook of Gene’s neck. He could smell a mixture of lightly fragranced soap, a subtle hint of sweat and something else that was wholly Gene. He could feel Gene relax at the contact, his hands coming up to grip into the back of Babe’s regulation jacket, even if vocally he protested with an exasperated _“Babe…”_ and a small sigh.

“C’mon Gene, ain’t nobody gonna come in here” Babe mumbled into the other man’s neck,

“You don’t know that” Gene reminded him, but he allowed the embrace to linger for a few moments more before he lightly pushed Babe back, smile still present on his face, “’Sides, we gonna have plenty o’ time for all that tonight.”

Babe leaned back and eyed Gene carefully, “Tonight?”

Gene’s smile widened, “I ain’t sharing a room with anyone”

Babe looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds, and then the words processed and his eyes widened as the full-blown grin from earlier returned ten-fold, “You’re shittin’ me!” He exclaimed, to a roll of the eyes from the other man before he brought their lips together for quick, intense kiss. Gene inhaled sharply through his nose, returned the kiss briefly and then pushed the other man away completely,

“What’d I just tell you” He proclaimed, though the severity was diminished by the wide smile still present on his face.

“Babe, you around here somewhere?” They both gave a slight jump when they heard the distinctive timbre of George Luz’s voice calling from the sea of tents. Gene gave Babe a look that screamed _‘I told you so’_ and then it was Babe’s turn to roll his eyes.

He made for the tent flap, then turned back round, “So, tonight then?”

Gene smiled and nodded, “I’ll come find you”

“You better” and then Babe disappeared from the tent to find out whatever it was that Luz needed him for.


	8. The Last Kiss Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took ages to finish, so I'm really truly sorry about that!  
> Also, some things here are out of order in terms of how they played out in the show, but this is an AU anyway so I like to think it doesn't REALLY matter....

Darkness had fallen over Zell am See, and yet still the sounds of men hollering, engines revving, horns beeping and guns shooting could be heard loud and clear. With a combination of too much free alcohol and no way to otherwise occupy themselves, some of the men had gone almost wild with frustration and boredom. Before Zell am See the men had either been constantly active, or knowing that they would have to be active and alert at a moment’s notice, they’d almost forgotten what it was like to relax.

Gene said as much to Babe in the low light of the Gene’s hotel room, his breath ghosting over Babe’s lips as they lay facing each other on what must have been the comfiest bed Babe had ever laid on, legs entwined and arms resting loosely on the other’s waist in a relaxed embrace underneath the covers, both of them basking in a post-orgasm glow that had created a peacefulness contradicting the world outside. Gene’s fingers danced lightly over the bare skin of Babe’s side, mapping the scars that had been given to him in battle.

“So, Gene, does that mean you’re telling me, that you don’t wanna get drunk and go joyriding with me?” Babe laughed as Gene’s eyes flicked up from his mouth to his eyes, fixing Babe with one of his now-famous exasperated glares. Babe paid it no mind though, wide smile still planted firmly on his face, as he could see the amusement behind the glare, shining brightly in those deep pools of blue.

“Yes Babe, that’s exactly what I’m telling you” He clarified, the barest hints of a laugh hidden behind the words, “But, you know, if you wanna go…” He let the rest of the sentence trail off as Babe laughed and pressed his lips firmly against the other man’s,

“I gotta say, Gene,” He smiled, pulling back to speak before pressing another, gentler this time, brief kiss against that full, red mouth, “I think I’m okay right here”

Gene smiled against his lips and softly whispered a questioning, “Yeah?” into the kiss. In response, Babe tightened his hold on Gene’s waist, bringing their bodies almost impossibly closer together, feeling Gene’s flushed skin pressed hot against the entirety of his own body. Gene pulled away, perhaps a little bit reluctantly. “I wanna tell you, Babe,” he murmured, “I ain’t never gonna forget this time here, in this beautiful place, with you.” His half-lidded gaze found Babe’s own and Babe felt whatever words had formed in his throat dry up when he saw the look of sincerity in the other’s man eyes, “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long, long time, Babe, and it’s thanks to you.”

Babe blinked once, then twice, mouth slightly ajar with a half-formed sentence on the tip of his tongue. He closed his mouth again, briefly, to swallow before settling on a response, “Gene, you make me happy too. I mean, you gotta know that.” He watched Gene’s lips pull into a small smile and then pressed on, “But you’re making it sound like this is the end. I mean, I’m personally looking forward the new memories we’ll get to make back in the states.” The other man’s eyes widened as he sat up in the bed, sheets pooling in a pile on his lap as his mouth opened in order to interject, but Babe spoke again before he had the chance, lifting his upper body and resting his weight on his elbow, “Now, look, I know what you’re thinking. I’m a Philly boy, and us Philly boys, well we don’t tend to stray far if we can help it. But, you know, I think I could learn to like Louisiana.” He smiled at Gene, who was still looking at him with a nearly blank expression on his face, “After all, there’s something very appealing in Louisiana that Philly just doesn’t have.”

Gene was still focussing his gaze on an indeterminable spot on the mattress as he cleared his throat, “What, uh – what’s that?”

Babe frowned at the strange shift in Gene’s mood, “Well, Christ Gene, it’s you.” He sat up completely and reached over to take hold of Gene’s limp hands, picking them up from where they’d been laying in his lap. Gene looked down at the point of contact, looking almost confused that Babe was even touching him at all. Choosing to ignore the change in atmosphere, Babe continued on, “I mean, I ain’t going home with you straight away or nothing. I gotta go and see my family, let ‘em know I made it back in one piece, y'know. Though ma’s gonna flip when she finds out about us. It’s one thing to kill a man, that was done in the name of God and country, but it’s quite another to sleep with one. That’ll get ya a one-way ticket to hell, far as she’s concerned.” Babe let out a breathy laugh and rubbed the back of Gene’s hand with his thumb, “I might tell her as I’m walking out the door, so I can get outta there before all hell breaks loose!”

Babe waited for a response, a sign that Gene had even heard what he’d just said. Finally, after what felt like forever, the other man looked up at Babe, an indecipherable look in his eyes, “Babe, I -”

“Doc!” A familiar bellow, sounding uncomfortably close to the door, interrupted whatever it was that Gene was going to tell Babe. Gene’s eyes widened in a way that would have comical had the situation not been so dire. “Doc, I need you to get your ass out here immediately. We’ve got an emergency.”

Both Babe and Gene scrambled off the bed at breakneck speeds, as they fumbled around in the dim light searching for a pair of pants and a shirt while Captain Speirs pounded at the door. Apparently, whatever it was that had Speirs so frantic, was more of an emergency than either man had thought, because the next thing they knew the door had been kicked open and an intimidating-looking Speirs walked into their room just as Gene had finished doing up the last button on his shirt.

“Roe -” Then he paused as his eyes found Babe standing just slightly behind Gene, shirt and pants still undone while he was busy trying to look anywhere other than Speirs’ accusatory stare. He knew exactly how they must have looked with their hair mussed, skin still flushed and the bed in a mess behind them. “Heffron, what are you-”He paused again, lips thinning just slightly as he looked back at Gene, “Roe, we need you downstairs, Sergeant Grant’s been wounded.”

Babe could see the change in Gene’s face as he went from a guilty, worried young man unsure of what fate awaited him, to the quick-thinking, take-charge medic that the men of Easy had come to rely on. Babe swiftly finished buttoning his shirt while Gene found his jacket and tried to get a grasp on the situation

“In what way’s he been wounded, sir?” He questioned, making for the open door. Babe, who’d managed to make himself look halfway presentable, quickly followed suit.

Speirs sighed heavily and ran one hand through his hair, “He was shot in the head.” He said with an air of finality to his voice, drawing that particularly line of questioning to a close.

“He had any plasma yet?” This was why the men could rely on Gene, he wasted no time over being shocked that a man had been shot in the head even though the war was supposedly over, instead he kept himself focussed on thinking about what the next steps to take were.

“None yet”

“Okay, well we gotta get some plasma in him and get him to the aid station, quick as possible,” The tone of his voice left no room for argument, “I gotta say though Captain, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of a man survivin’ a shot to the head”

Speirs’ lips thinned again as he looked at Gene, “Well we’re gonna give it our best damn shot, aren’t we?” It was spoken like a statement of fact, rather than a question to be answered, but Gene and Babe both nodded anyway.

Babe cleared his throat to ask the question that had been on his mind from the moment they’d been told, “Who shot him, sir? A Kraut?”

It was the only time he’d seen Speirs’ footsteps falter the whole time they’d been moving and he exhaled heavily through his nose before he spoke, “We don’t know yet. Talbert says he was American though.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as the extent of what had happened started to sink in, “I’ve ordered some of the boys to find him.” Babe gave a short nod in acknowledge of what Speirs meant.

**********************

While Babe left to join up with the group of ‘Easy’ men who’d formed to find the man that had shot Grant, on the orders of Captain Speirs to keep the man alive, Gene and Speirs went in search of a German brain surgeon, having been told by the Army surgeon that there wasn’t anything he could do.

It didn’t take long to find a willing man that could perform the operation. Of course, not many would choose to argue with a pistol pointing at their forehead. Gene and Speirs watched from their position against the hospital wall, nervous anticipation bubbling inside both of them as they each prayed to God for Grant to make it through this. The man had been with Easy since Toccoa, he’d been in the thick of the action through every operation and to lose him now would be a cruel injustice.

Gene heard Speirs sigh and then clear his throat, “What do you think his chances are, Doc?”

“Honestly Sir, I don’t know,” Gene replied as he ran a hand over his face, “I would have thought his chances were slim, but Grant’s a tough man. If anyone’s gonna survive a shot to the head, it’ll be him”

Speirs nodded, eyes still trained on the operation in progress. They stood in silence for a while longer until Speirs broke his gaze away to look down at Gene, “So, you wanna tell me what it was I walked in on back there at the hotel then?”

It was a way for Speirs to distract himself, to stop himself from focussing all of his attention on Grant for a moment and his tone was light, an almost teasing quality layered over the question. Still Roe froze, as though someone had a gun trained on him. He steeled himself before answering, “Sir, with all due respect, your observational skills are some of best in this regiment. I don’t think you need me to tell you what you walked in on.”

He refused to meet Speirs eyes, for fear of the accusations and disgust he was certain he’d find there. It hadn’t been the most respectful answer he could have given, but Gene had always been prone to being defensive when faced with an undesirable situation. He waited for the reprimand, but after a moment he heard the other man let out a thoughtful ‘hmm’ and then, “It’s always nice to have confirmation though.” Gene gave a short nod before Speirs continued, “When did it start?”

Gene looked at the Captain curiously, trying to find a hint of judgement in those ever-unreadable eyes, “Sir, if you’re gonna report us for this, I’d rather not talk about it right now. Not here anyway.” And, as if solely to increase Gene’s confusion, Speirs looked down briefly, letting out an almost inaudible laugh under his breath and shaking his head slightly. Gene frowned, “Sir?”

“Roe, I hope you don’t think that you and Babe are the only ones ‘relieving tension’ with each other in this army.”

Gene spluttered slightly in shock, “That’s not-”

Speirs cut him off, “Hey, you know, if you two have got something more than that then I’m pleased for you. God knows it’d be nice for some of us to get something good out of this fucking war.”

“Sir?” That wasn’t the response that Gene had been expecting at all.

“Of course, I’m not saying that everyone’s going to feel the same way. If Colonel Sink finds out he might well choose to have you both court martialled. But I’m not going to be the one to tell him, and I’m damn certain not a single man in this company would either.”

Gene nodded, “Thank you, sir. You’re a good man.”

The other man smirked, “Perhaps, but I don’t know how many would agree with you.” Gene made to protest, but he was once again cut off, “Now, are you going to answer the question?”

The medic had to think for a second. The knowledge that Captain Speirs was, in a sense, supportive of Gene and Babe’s – _whatever the hell it was they had –_  had thrown him for a loop, and it took a moment for him to remember how the conversation had started, “I’m not entirely sure, sir. Haguenau maybe.”

“How long have you known? You know, that you’re _like that_?”

Gene sighed, his mind bringing up memories from childhood that he’d sooner forget, “Since I was a boy, I guess.”

Speirs must not have heard the way his voice had gotten quieter, or he chose to ignore it, “So, have you ever been with a woman?”

Gene nodded, “I have, sir”

“But you prefer men?”

Gene knew that the Captain was simply looking for a distraction, but the mental exhaustion from the night’s events were taking their toll on Gene and he found his irritation at the line of questioning growing with each passing second, “I couldn’t say, sir. At this precise moment, yeah I prefer a man.”

Speirs gave a ‘hmm’ in reply, but as he was opening his mouth to ask another question he was cut off by a distinctly German-accented voice, an interruption that Gene never thought he’d be thankful for, “Excuse me, gentlemen, I would prefer silence while I’m operating. This is a very delicate procedure and your incessant chatter isn’t helping anybody.”

Even the Captain looked somewhat sheepish under the authoritative tone of the German surgeon, “My apologies” He offered, “Roe, I’m gonna head back to see what’s gone on with the boys and the shooter. You gonna be okay here?” Gene nodded and Speirs turned to address the surgeon, “Can you tell me how much longer this procedure will take?”

The man sighed, “I cannot say for certain, but I predict it will be at least another hour. That is if we don’t lose him in the meantime.”

Speirs turned to face Gene, shielding the front of his body from view as he discreetly handed him a pistol, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

Gene put the pistol in his inside pocket, suddenly thankful that he’d remembered to grab the jacket before they’d run out of the hotel room. He nodded once at Speirs, “Sir.” He was acutely aware of the surgeon’s eyes on them.

Speirs returned the nod before making his way back to the other boys.

******************

It was almost daybreak when everything had settled down. The murky light of dawn just starting to appear as Gene trudged his way up the, what now felt like, endless flights of hotel stairs. His legs felt heavier than they had in long time and when he finally made it to _‘his’_ room he all but collapsed on the bed, the events of the night having drained what little he’d been able to replenish of his energy reserves.

He sat on the bed, elbows resting on his knees with his face hidden in the palms of his hands, the tell-tale signs of a pounding headache stirring behind his eyes as he thought back to how light and happy everything had seemed at the beginning of the evening. How quickly everything had changed just due the actions of one man with too much drink and loaded gun. A replacement American soldier from I Company, Speirs had told him when he’d come back to collect Gene and Grant.

He sat there in relative silence until he heard a light knock against the door, having no time to respond before a familiar head of bright red hair appeared, looking uncertain and hesitant in the doorway,

“Gene, you alright?” He spoke softly into the dim room, clearly not wanting to make his way in until he was invited.

With a sigh, Gene mumbled, “I’m not sure I’m the one you should be worryin’ about.” He sat up straighter, composing himself for a second, “Come in, Babe.”

Babe walked in, closing the door carefully behind him as he did. He could feel the precarious tension in the room and he didn’t want even the slamming of a door to break the strange semblance of peace that had settled.

He sat next to Gene on the bed, “So, uh, what’s the verdict? With Grant, I mean.”

“We took him back to the aid station after the operation,” Gene replied as he picked at an errant hangnail on his hand, the movement distracting Babe for a moment before the other man spoke again, “He’ll be shipped back over the States as soon as they can”

“So he’s gonna live?”

Gene shrugged, “I don’t know. They seemed pretty hopeful-” He looked at Babe, exhaustion shining in his eyes, “It was bad though, Babe. Really bad. I don’t know what state he’ll be in, even if he does wake up.”

Babe wasn’t sure what to say. The atmosphere had grown awkward and tense, something he hadn’t associated with Gene for months. There were questions that needed answering hanging in the air between them, preventing Babe from feeling like he could even touch the other man, let alone provide some sort of comfort.

So they sat in silence, listening to sounds of birds chirping and engines starting, bringing forth the start a new day. Gene cleared his throat, “Captain Speirs is -”

Babe perked up and looked at Gene’s face, “Yeah?” He prompted, thankful that Gene had had the sense to start the conversation,

“He ain’t gonna report us.” He finished, “Said he was glad that we ‘got something good’ outta the war”

Babe couldn’t help the bright smile that grew on his face, and he wondered why Gene still looked like there was something on his mind, “Well, that’s great isn’t it?” He questioned, reaching out to clasp Gene’s shoulder, frowning when the man shrugged him away and stood up to stand in front of him, “Gene?”

“Babe, that was close earlier. That was far too close.” Gene’s brows were furrowed, the corners of his mouth pulled down slightly.

Babe eyed him warily, “Yeah, it was close. We were lucky this time.” He affirmed, not liking the direction this conversation was going in, “So we gotta make sure we’re more careful. At least, until we go home, right?”

“Babe, I could have got us both court-martialled,” He stated, his arms becoming more animated as he continued, “Anyone else catches us, they might not be as understanding.”

Babe stood slowly, walking towards Gene as though approaching a wild animal. This was reminding him too much of the conversation they’d had after their first kiss. It felt like they were back to square one, “Gene, what d’ya mean _you_ could have gotten us court-martialled? I’m pretty sure I was _, and still am,_ a willing participant.”

“Babe, please,” Gene tone had turned pleading, desperate for Babe to understand, “You got a normal life waitin’ for you back home – a good life. We gotta stop this before it goes too far.”

“You can’t know what sort of life is waiting for me.” Babe insisted, “This has already gone ‘too far’,” He moved to stand directly in front of Gene, placing both of his hands on either side of the man’s face, his thumbs stroking lightly across the stubble-roughened cheeks as he searched Gene’s eyes, “Gene, I – I love you.”

He wasn’t sure if that’s what he’d meant to say when he cupped Gene’s face. But he knew how he felt and wasn’t going to take it back now. Even when Gene’s eyelids closed, hiding away the pained look that had washed over his eyes. The medic brought his hand up to cover Babe’s own, wrapping his fingers around the other man’s and pulling them away from his cheek. When he opened his eyes again, Babe could see that they were wet with unshed tears.

Gene leant forward, bringing his free hand up to curl around the back of Babe’s head as he kissed him. It was soft, but firm and desperate, and it felt like a goodbye, but Babe almost lost himself in it anyway. And when Gene pulled back just slightly to whisper against his lips, _“I’m so sorry”_ , it was spoken so quiet in a voice thick with pain that Babe nearly didn’t catch it.

He was still processing what had just happened when Gene pulled back completely, mouth set in a firm, straight line as he turned his back on Babe and walked out of the room, without even a cursory glance back at the man he’d left standing there, mouth agape and pained expression slowly setting in as he realised that the man he’d just confessed his love to, was now walking back out of his life.


	9. Unusual Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been utterly terrible and this chapter has taken far longer than I intended, for no good reason other than it's a bit of a filler chapter and my ability to write those is sketchy at best.  
> Also, more Webgott hints in here, because I am utter trash. Whether anything comes of these hints I haven't decided yet, do leave a comment if you have any strong feeling for/against any solid inclusion of some Webgott, because I do have a few ideas that would mesh nicely with my plans for this story.

Babe felt as though he was walking around in a daze. He’d never realised how difficult it was to feign a smile, or force a laugh. He’d never had to do that before, his emotions had always been genuine, and he’d never been hesitant to show people exactly how he was feeling at any given time. Again, that was probably why he ended up having so many fist fights outside the bar back home. But now, well he couldn’t exactly tell anyone that his lover-  _Or maybe Partner? Occasional fuck-buddy perhaps? Whatever it was that him and Gene had been-_  had essentially broken up with him. It was bad enough that Speirs had caught them; he still couldn’t really look his Captain in the eye and he was actively hoping that the man would just take that as a sign of respect.

His generally gloomy, snappish attitude hadn’t been lost on some of his comrades either, most of whom had taken to avoiding him outright, and some of the few who were still talking to him did so carefully, with the hope of avoiding any potential conflict. The only man that would happily still talk to him as though everything was normal was Liebgott. Then again, this was a man that could give as good as he took without so much as flinch.

As it was, Babe was sat on one of the chairs outside the hotel, nursing a half empty glass of beer in both hands when that very man strode over, setting himself down in the vacant chair next to the other man and fixing him with a pointed stare.

Babe let out a harsh sigh, “Got somethin’ to say, Lieb?” He muttered as the man continued to stare at him silently, dark eyes unwavering on Babe’s profile,

“I might have,” came the reply, “You gonna bite my head off again like the complete bitch you’ve been over the past week?”

Babe looked up from his beer, focused his line of sight out over the lake and shrugged loosely, “Depends what it is you’re plannin’ to say”

Liebgott’s own gaze followed Babe’s, though if there were anything of interest to see out there he couldn’t find it, “You know, you almost made Web cry yesterday with your piss-poor attitude.” He pointed out, a lazy, lop-sided smile forming on his lips,

“Did I really?” Babe replied, with all the care of someone who’d just been told they’d dropped some gum on the floor, before he let out a breathy laugh, “And of course, he’d go to you about that,” he remarked, “‘Oh, Lieb, Babe was so mean to me just now, won’t you go and tell him off for me?’” Okay so that might have been a little bit cruel, and his overly-effeminate impersonation of Webster was nothing short of terrible, but he was hoping that he could steer the conversation away from focusing on him and his problems. It was deflection at its finest –

“Okay firstly, I’m the master of trying to piss people off to get them to fuck off; so that shit’s not gonna work on me. And secondly, this ain’t about me and Web, this is about you acting like someone who hasn’t just been told that the war’s over and he’s going home. So what I wanna know is what the fuck your problem is?”

Well, so much for deflection then. Babe gave a huff and roughly ran a hand over his face, “Lieb, I don’t have to tell you shit. Maybe my problem is everybody askin’ me what my fucking problem is”

Liebgott fixed him with another cold look and rose to his feet, and for just a second it looked like the man was gearing for a fight. Then the moment passed and Liebgott appeared to deflate before moving to lean on the brick wall that lined the patio, his back turned towards Babe.

“You know,” He muttered, just loud enough for Babe to hear, “It’s times like this that I really wish Bill had never been sent him home. He was always better at dealing with your bitchy moods than anyone else.”

Babe rose to his feet as well, a sour look planted firmly on his face as he set his beer down, growled an angry “Fuck you” and made a move to walk away from the other man. And then he was stopped in his tracks,

“I know, by the way” It was said in a low voice, one that implied that Babe wasn’t even meant to have heard it. Hell, if his footsteps had been a little louder, or his breathing had been a little heavier he might not have heard the man at all. As it was, however, those five words had Babe turning on his heel and marching back to Liebgott’s side, focusing a calculating look at the other man,

“Care to tell me, then, what it is you _think_ you know?”

Liebgott turned his body to face Babe, that same lazy, lop-sided smile from before present on his lips. It was the smile that Liebgott always wore when he thought he was being really clever, and it made Babe want to smack him in the mouth.

“I hate to tell you this, Babe,” He drawled, “But you and Doc are not that quiet”

Babe could feel the colour drain from his face as he processed the words, “What are you-”

“Oh come on Babe,” The other man interrupted, a full-blown, shit-eating grin now firmly in place, “What? Did you just assume there was no-one staying in the room next to Doc’s? You know, you both gotta learn to keep it down a bit if you don’t want no-one finding out-”

Liebgott was interrupted by Babe fisting both hands into the front of his shirt, hauling the man around to face him completely while he ordered, “Would you shut in the fuck up” in harsh, whispered tones, earning them a few curious stares from some local passer-by’s.

“Would _you_ politely calm the fuck down?” Liebgott hissed, “And get the hell off me, Christ!” The man yanked himself out of Babe’s grip and fixed him with an incredulous look, “Listen, I’m probably not the only one that’d figured it out and I’m definitely not here to judge you.”

Babe raised an eyebrow, “So if you ain’t here to pass judgement, why even bring it up?”

Liebgott shrugged, “Just curious is all. Thought perhaps it might be the reason both of you are being bad-tempered bastards.” At Babe’s silence and the sense that the man had, indeed, calmed down a bit, Liebgott sighed and made his way back to the chair, motioning for Babe to do the same and hoping that the few curious glances they’d got were only that. “So, what happened then?” He continued when Babe, after a few tense heartbeats, sat back down in the chair, “You guys break up or something? I assumed something had happened after I saw Doc leaving his own room like a broken-hearted dame.” He tilted his head slightly in thought, ignoring the pissed-off look that Babe sent his way. “Is that what you did? D’ya break his heart?” Still more silence in response. “If that’s the case, though, that don’t explain what’s got you looking like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders”

This time Liebgott waited longer, watching as Babe’s brows furrowed together, his mouth set in a firm line and the previously discarded beer once again cradled in his hands. He let the silence drag on, waiting until he was absolutely certain that Babe wasn’t planning on saying anything, “Come on, Babe, gimme something to work with here!”

“Liebgott, I ain’t gotta give you shit” Babe spoke sullenly, a coating of depression replacing the anger that had resided there just moments beforehand, “But no, for that matter. He’s the one that ended it.” Babe could see Liebgott’s mouth opening from the corner of his eye, could hear the question before he’d even asked it and promptly decided to spare him the trouble, “And no, I don’t know why. Not really anyway.”

Liebgott’s eyes narrowed slightly, “What d’ya mean ‘not really’?”

“What I mean is he spouted some shit about wanting me to have a ‘normal life’ back home.” Babe snorted derisively, “‘Normal life’, I mean what sort of shit is that? I’ve had 22 years of ‘normal’ back home, don’t he think if I wanted normal I would’ve chosen normal?” 

“Well he’s not wrong,” Liebgott supplied, “You _could_ have a normal life back home-”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Babe interrupted with a groan, “Why the fuck is it so hard to understand that I don’t want a normal fucking life. What I want, if either you or Gene cared to ask, _is Gene_ , alright?” If Babe hadn’t already been halfway to drunk, and if he wasn’t already more pissed off with his situation than he cared to admit, he was certain his cheeks would have been flaming red and that admission.

Liebgott, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care about the unusual nature of their conversation and threw his hands up in surrender at Babe’s tone, “Alright, alright, Jeez!” He exclaimed, “Look, all’s I’m saying is, maybe Doc didn’t want you to end up resenting him”

“‘Resenting him’?”

“Yeah. Y’know, it’s not like people back home are gonna being thrilled with the idea. Doc’s gotta know that, even if you’ve forgotten. So he’s probably just trying to help you out.” Liebgott loosely shrugged, “It’s what he does, isn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question. Everyone knew that that’s what Gene did. It’s what he’d always done, from the very start of the war. Hell, it might well have been the sort of thing he’d done before the war as well, putting other people’s happiness and wellbeing before his own.

Babe sighed again and set his beer down, “I’m gonna try and talk to him again, see if I can convince him that I just don’t care what other people might say or do”

He made to stand up until Liebgott laid a firm hand on his shoulder, halting his progress, “No, Babe, see that’s the other thing I came to tell you about. Y’know, after I was sure that Doc was the cause of your mood.”

Babe narrowed his eyes a fraction and looked at the other man warily, “What are you on about, Lieb?”

“Well, with the war officially over – what with Japan surrending an’ all – they’re finally letting people go back home. Y’know, even without the points.”

“You’re not telling me -”

Liebgott gave Babe a sympathetic look with an accompanying nod and a pat on the shoulder, “Doc got shipped stateside this morning.”

*********************

Richard Winters usually felt as though he was on the ball with almost everything that went on within his battalion. And out of all the companies under his command, he had thought that he was most on the ball when it came to the men of Easy. So when he happened to spot Babe Heffron one afternoon, just as he was finalising the arrangements with Nix for when they went back home, walking by the lake with his hands shoved in his pockets, the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown and his brow furrowed, looking nothing like a man that was due to go back home any day now, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

He laid a hand on Nixon’s arm, interrupting his informative speech on the finer points of Winters’ new position within Nixon Nitration Works, and motioned to where the young man had stopped to look out over the water. Nixon spared a glance over and then gave a shrug to Winters,

“I’ve heard the kid’s been like it for a few days now,” Nixon supplied, “Snappy, irritable, rude – almost made Private Webster cry.” The last part had been said with a wry smile and a breathy chuckle,

“Yes, well I think Liebgott has managed to tell any soldier with a working pair of ears that Private Heffron almost made Private Webster cry,” Winters replied, unable to stop the small smirk from forming on his own lips, “I think it’s the happiest I’ve seen Liebgott in a long time.” Nixon grinned and nodded in agreement as Winters looked back over at Babe, “Care to offer a possible explanation?”

Nixon gave Winters a look, “Dick, I’m the intelligence officer, not the men’s personal therapist.” Winters raised an eyebrow, fixing the other man with a look that Nixon was able to hold for all of 10 second before he continued, “Okay, so there may have been some talk-”

“‘Talk?’”

“Hushed whispers really, between some of the men. You know me Dick, I’m not one to listen in on other people's conversations-”

“Cut the crap Lew, what are they saying?”

Nixon pursed his lips together briefly before replying, “Well apparently the man are saying that they’ve heard of some ‘private meetings’ between the young Private Heffron over there and our recently departed good Doc”

It didn’t take a genius to work out what Nixon had meant by ‘private meetings’. Winters turned to look over at Babe again, “Heffron and Roe? You don’t say?”

“That’s the word.” Nixon confirmed, following the path of the Winters’ line of sight with his own eyes, “Hey, didn’t Doc get shipped stateside recently?”

“Yeah, this morning. You think that’s the problem?”

Nixon shrugged, “Might not have helped, but my guess is something happened before that.”

“A fight of some sort?”

Nixon stayed quiet for a few heartbeats, tearing his gaze away from the young man by the lakeside to look at the man next to him. He contemplated his reply for a moment longer and laughed under his breath, “Christ, Dick, I don’t know. I think I’m more concerned about you anyway”

Winters gave Nixon an incredulous look, “Me?”

The question and its accompanying look drew a full laugh out of Nixon and he set his hand on Winters back, manoeuvring the man around with the obvious intention of heading back to the hotel bar, “Yeah, you. War’s been over for no longer than a week and you’ve already got us gossiping about like a pair of old broads.”

Winters rolled his eyes but allowed the man to lead the way, all the while wondering whether or not Private Heffron might know whereabouts in Louisiana the medic came from, and whether it might be worth passing that information on to the young man.

After all, let it never be said that Major Richard Winters didn’t care about the needs of his men.


End file.
